


The Status of our Future

by Signe_chan



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Divergent, FIx It, M/M, where has Clint been anyway?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 21:50:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1444144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signe_chan/pseuds/Signe_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set post episode 17 of Agents of SHIELD. </p><p>Everything Phil thought he knew is suddenly a lie so he sets out with his team to try and make sense of the world he's been left with. Along the way he finds friends he didn't know he had and enemies he didn't know he had in about equal measure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work in progress. I currently intend to post a chapter a week but life so I'm not promising a posting schedule as that was madness lies.
> 
> Because someone mentioned it in comments - in this fic the events in Captain America 2 are taking place something like 6 months after The Avengers, as a rough figure. I'm not sure how close to canon that is but it makes sense to be with how long they've been on the bus and how long it would have taken Coulson to recover from being dead.

"A.C.?"

"Yes," Phl said in what he hoped was an even and reassuring voice. He'd have probably snapped if it had been anyone other than Skye. It was coming up to 46 hours now since he last slept and though he could feel exhaustion seeping in he couldn't bring himself to rest here at the hub. He felt too exposed - like the people he was meant to trust could be whispering 'Hail Hydra' as soon as his back was turned.

Hydra. How had this become his life?

"May said to let you know we're ready for wheels up when you are."

"Good," Phil said, feeling a little of the tension go out of his shoulders. "Let's go."

"Seriously?" Skye asked, raising an eyebrow. "Just like that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, didn't we just do the whole big 'trust nobody' thing? Don't you want to stay here and hold the fort?"

Staying here was the last thing Phil wanted right now but he knew he wasn't exactly being rational. Rationally he could see that just because they hadn’t caught anyone here out yet didn’t mean Hydra agents weren’t still present and as a senior agent he should stay on site in case of incident. He was getting the feeling he’d go mad if he actually tried that, though. He needed to get out of here, if only for a short time. To be around people he could trust to not be Hydra, even if he couldn’t trust some of them with much else right now. 

"It'll only be a short run," Phil justified. "I'm going to be honest with you, I'm not entirely convinced that reports of Nick Fury's death aren't greatly exaggerated. I wasn’t dead, after all. If Fury is alive we need to speak to him. There's a facility north of here and if Nick is alive and still has any trust in this organization, that's where he'll be." Phil really wanted Nick to be alive. Not just for the aspect of it where Nick was his friend but because then this would all be Nick’s problem and off his plate. 

"He's not going to be there," Skye said. "Think about it A.C., S.H.I.E.L.D. is compromised. All your secrets are on the internet for anyone to find. If he is alive he certainly won't be in any known S.H.I.E.L.D. facility."

"I have to try," Phil said with a shrug. "Honestly, I can't just sit here. I'm going mad. I need to do something."

"I get that," Skye said with a tight little nod. "I just don't want us to lose a safe place because we rushed."

"There are people I can trust to leave in charge here," Phil said. Some members of Hand’s team were still here. She’d trusted them, he could too. He just couldn’t stay here waiting for Hydra to make a move. 

"Alright," Skye said, taking a physical step back as if the physical distance would bring some mental distance. Phil wished he could take a step back from the whole thing. The longer he was left to dwell on it the more it was bothering him. Hydra. He'd been working for Hydra all these years. Everything he'd believed in...

"Let's go," Phil said, moving for the door without pausing for Skye to fall in line. "The quicker we're in the air, the quicker we'll be back here."

***

"Alright," Phil said, looking around at his team. They all looked a little worn around the edges from the last few days. He could hardly blame them. It had only been a short plane ride and if he'd been having trust and sleep issues they must have been too. Maybe he should just take them off somewhere until they’d all had a chance to sleep. He wished he had the luxury. "Let's have a situation update and they we'll talk about the facility we're about to enter. May."

"We've received a message from Ward," Melinda said, focusing on the table instead of him. He didn't blame her, he didn't really want to look at her either. He'd known working with spies meant that sometimes you were the one they lied to but it didn't mean he liked the feeling. "They're at the fridge."

"Anything from Agent Hand?"

"No," Melinda said. "Just Ward. But it was only a short communication. He just confirmed that they’d landed."

"Alright," Phil said with a tight nod. Agent Hand had agreed to keep in touch with him herself but he supposed it made sense if it was just a brief message to confirm their location. He'd worry about it later when he had time. "FitzSimmons?"

"We've been helping Skye with the data mining," Fitz said. He had an almost manic gleam in his eye like he'd been awake and focused for too long. It made Phil nervous.

"Have you found anything?" he asked.

"Well, not yet," Jemma answered, giving a small shrug. She looked the most well rested of them all. He was glad someone seemed to be getting some sleep. "There's so much data to go through. I mean, it was everything S.H.I.E.L.D. had, after all and it was not dumped in any kind of order. We're trying to find anything related to your death but there's so much data relating to you..."

"Did you really have to fill in paperwork for relationships?" Skye interrupted. "And who was Ben?"

"Yes we did and I'm not discussing my past relationships with you. It's bad enough that they're now a matter of public record."

"Just curious," Skye said rolling her eyes. Phil didn't dignify that with an answer, instead pulling up the file he'd prepared. It was a map of all the S.H.I.E.L.D. facilities he knew of. The ones currently in Hydra control were marked red, the ones in S.H.I.E.L.D. control marked blue. The unknown in orange. There was a lot more orange up there than he'd like.

"This is the situation," he said, gesturing at the map. "At this time we just don't know how many S.H.I.E.L.D. facilities are secure and how many are in Hydra's control. We don’t know how stable the control is at any of these locations either. We're currently approaching the Infirmary, S.H.I.E.L.D.’s major long term medical station. It's important to secure it if it isn't secure. As I've shared with Skye, I also have my doubts about Agent Fury being as dead as his press claims. If he's alive and if he's with S.H.I.E.L.D., this is where we'll find him."

"It should be an easy place to take," May said. "The staff were mostly medical. Of course all S.H.I.E.L.D. staff have some combat training but these people would be less likely to fight. Having an active medical facility will be a real asset to us if we are going forward to fight Hydra too."

"I agree," Phil said, looking around at his team. He wished Ward was with them. He understood the other man's reasons for wanting to go put Garret away but it would make this easier if he had another agent he could trust in the field. "Alright, this is how we're going to do this. FitzSimmons, you stay on the bus and carry on doing what you're doing. Myself, Skye and May are going to go into the building. Our missions is to secure the base and check for Fury."

"Why do I get the feeling it's not going to be that easy?" Skye said. Phil had to agree. He doubted it would be that easy either but he had to hope.

***

Three corridors into the building it became clear that this wasn't going to be as simple as he'd hoped. The place didn’t seem to be controlled by Hydra, at least, which was a plus. It wasn't controlled by anyone, as far as he could tell. Everyone was dead.

It had never been a particularly large facility by S.H.I.E.L.D. standards. Every S.H.I.E.L.D. location had it's own medical unit, of course. The infirmary dealt with those people who needed a convalescence or physical therapy or intensive therapy of other kinds. It's the place where he should have recovered from being stabbed if he hadn't been dead for a week and therefore a special case. 

When they found the first body he heard Skye gasp but he couldn’t work up the emotion to be shocked - even as such obvious a waste of life. A young nurse, his brain blown out. So much wasted potential - be he Hydra or not. Phil was just kind of sick of watching people die.

He was definitely in the wrong job right now.

He lead them past the corpse and down the hall to the first junction. Psych to the left, everything else to the right.

"We need to check the entire facility," he said, keeping his weapon up. "We need to find any survivors. There must be some." He hoped beyond hope there were some. Small facility still meant over a hundred people. Someone had to have survived. "I'll take the left and you two go right."

"We should stay together," May said, voice tense.

"We'll cover more ground if we split," he said with a shrug. In other circumstances it'd be nice to have someone covering his back for this but he didn’t want to waste time here. 

"I'm with A.C.," Skye said, looking around them. "This place is kind of giving me the creeps. The sooner we're out of here the better."

For a second he thought May was going to argue again but then she shut her mouth and nodded. He returned the nod and waited until they moved away before continuing on his own.

He passed a couple more bodies as he moved deeper into the psych department but not as many as he might have expected. It was possible there'd been a partial evacuation before everything went to hell. He hoped there had. The infirmary was actually quite a nice place. It had a garden and the psych ward opened up onto it. Someone had shattered all the windows with gun fire which was less peaceful but it let a light breeze in and he appreciate that.

He'd spent his share of time here over the years, both as an active field agent and as a handler. There'd been the time in Bahrain with the IED and the physio that'd followed that but, more often than not, when he'd walked these halls he was here for Barton or Natasha. S.H.I.E.L.D. had always sent the two of them in to do the job nobody else could and that meant injuries. They'd both been frequent visitors of this place and whenever one of them ended up here he'd tried to get out to see them.

The entire thing made him regret not seeing them more recently. It wasn't that they'd been friends as such but they'd been constants in his life and he'd trusted them. He hoped they were both on the right side of this. He knew Natasha was, at least. She'd been with Captain America when it'd all gone down. If Steve trusted her he certainly did too. But Barton...

Barton chose that moment to drop out of the ceiling, aiming a gun at him. Phil brought his own gun up without thinking, freezing when he saw who was aiming at. Barton just hung there for a second, gun raised, then mumbled "Maybe I'm as mad as the shrinks say I am," and dropped the rest of the way out of the roof.

"I didn't know you were at this facility," Phil found himself saying. It wasn't the greatest conversation opener he'd ever used but he wasn't at his best right now.

"I didn't know you were alive," Barton replied, holstering his gun. "You are alive, right? You're Agent Coulson. I'm not hallucinating you."

"Is hallucinating me something you do often?" Phil asked. He knew it'd be polite to put his own gun down now but he also knew Agent Barton would be able to take him out either way if he chose to and Phil wanted to cling to the small amount of security the gun offered until he was more sure.

"Not you, no," Barton said, letting the implications of that hang. "You can put the gun down, I'm not Hydra. You do know about Hydra, right? That's why you're here."

"Yes," Phil agreed. "We were at the hub. It's secure there now. What do you know? What happened here."

"Officially I don't know shit," Agent Barton said, moving to slide down the wall. He took a few second to settle himself and Phil felt kind of stupid to still be stood there holding his gun when Barton had so obviously dismissed him as a threat. "They were evacuating everyone. I was helping. I mean, I can function with whatever's wrong with me but a lot of people couldn't so we had to move them first. All they told me is we'd had an order to abandon the facility from the Triskelion. Then when we were down to the last group there were suddenly guys with guns everywhere shouting Hail Hydra. Didn't take much to work out what was going on. I took out a few, got some weapons, took out the rest of them. Anything else you want to fill me in on?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D.'s compromised," Phil said, finally lowing his weapon. "The entire organization. Apparently Hydra's been hiding in S.H.I.E.L.D. from the beginning. I don't know the full scale of it myself yet but, as of now, there is no S.H.I.E.L.D.."

"That bad?" Agent Barton asked raising an eyebrow.

"Agent Romanov dumped out entire data store onto the internet for public access. We're done. Fury's dead, apparently."

"Wait," Barton said, holding his hand out as his brow wrinkled in thought. "If Nat's dumped EVERYTHING onto the internet Fury can't be dead. That kind of clearance would require Fury and the S.H.I.E.L.D. liaison to the world security council."

"But they'd have wiped Fury's data access when he died. It's possible they already put another director in and Nat forced them to help her."

"It's possible," Barton agreed, though he didn't look convinced. "So, okay, the world's gone to hell. There are no more secrets. Fury's dead. Why are you here and why are you not dead?"

"Why are you here?" Phil asked, raising an eyebrow. Agent Barton just laughed at the obvious deflection.

"I had a god in my head. He kind of made a mess. They've been trying to put my back together but I was already kind of a mess so it's slow going. Your turn."

"I'm here because we can't let Hydra just claim all S.H.I.E.L.D.'s remaining resources. We need to secure the facilities we have left and we don't know who we can trust. Can I trust you, Barton?"

"I should hope so," Agent Barton grumbled. "You've known me long enough, sir."

"One of the Agents I trained with, a long term friend, tried to kill me in the name of Hydra yesterday."

"That sucks," Barton said and there was some real sympathy in his voice. "I guess there's nothing I can do to prove it to you, is there? I mean, if it helps I'll swear to you right now that I'm loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D.. Or what's left of S.H.I.E.L.D.. What's left of my to be loyal is loyal to what's left of S.H.I.E.L.D.. How's that for confusing."

"Very," Phil said, though he couldn't help the little smile that spread across his face. "If it helps. I swear to you I'm not Hydra either."

"Like that was ever an option," Barton said with a little eye roll. "I mean, I can believe Hydra agents faking loyalty to S.H.I.E.L.D. for their idea of the greater good but the dedication it would take for an Hydra agent to fake being as in love with Captain America as you are? Can't be done."

"I'm not in love with Captain America," Phil said, though he could feel himself blushing and Barton was grinning in a way that told Phil he wasn't believed.

"No, sure you're not," Barton said. "Nat told me you asked him to sign your trading cards."

"It was a complete set," Phil said. He reached out to help Barton to his feet, letting himself relax a little. Barton was perhaps the most deadly man he knew, it was good to know they were on the same team. Or as close as he could be to knowing, anyway. Barton was a hero, Phil had gone to great lengths to make sure he was in the Avengers initiative to prove to the world he was a hero. Heroes didn't join Hydra.

"Come on," Agent Barton said. "Let's get out of here. You can tell me how you're still alive on the way."

***

By the time they made it back to the bus after a quick swing by the room Hawkeye had been recovering in to reclaim his few personal possessions May and Skye were already waiting. He was quite impressed that May looked a little shocked by his walking up with Hawkeye. It wasn't often he took her by surprise.

"You found a survivor?" Simmons asked, looking relieved. "Oh, thank goodness. May and Skye didn't find anyone."

"Damn," Agent Barton said with genuine regret in his voice. "I'd been hoping some more survivors were hiding in the other half of the facility. You sure?"

"Positive," May said, her voice tight. Now the shock was gone she looked distinctly unhappy to see Barton which was strange. Phil knew they'd never been close but he hadn't expected open hostility. A week ago he might have responded to that but, right now, May would just have to cope on her own.

"Barton, this is my team. You know May, these are Fitz, Simmons and Skye. This is Agent Barton. You might know him better as Hawkeye."

"Wait," Skye said. "You mean Hawkeye like the Avenger?"

"That's me," Barton agreed with an easy smile. There was something brittle in his voice though and Phil found himself watching the other man out of the corner of his eye. There was something not quite right about the smile too. Worth keeping a close watch on him.

"Alright, we're going to have to strip what we can take out of here and head back to the hub."

"Actually, there's something you're going to want to hear first," Fitz said, stepping forward with a tablet. Phil took it from him and pulled up a message. A distress message with a S.H.I.E.L.D. encryption from a ship he didn't recognize the name of.

"When did we pick this up?"

"Just after we landed. I figured you'd want to investigate since, well, we don't know if anyone else will."

"Might be a trap," Barton said, stepping in close to look down at the message. "I mean, S.H.I.E.L.D. have all our codes."

"Everyone else does too. Romanov dumped everything S.H.I.E.L.D. had on the internet, remember. We need to try anyway," Phil said with a sigh, handing the tablet back to Fitz. "Alright, we can come back here later. Wheels up. Are you good to join us for this, Barton?"

"Better than sitting here on my ass," Barton said with that same brittle smile. Phil let it go. There's be time to investigate that later, first there was a distress signal to reply to.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which an enemy is detected and we learn a little more (but not everything) about what's going on with Clint. Contains plot elements from ep 18 of AoS though is obviously AU at this point.

Phil felt better once they were in the air with a destination. Not good but better. He was a master of compartmentalisation - with a mission in front of him he could focus and put every way the world was falling down around his ears out of his head. 

He told his team to sleep then took the time to take a walk around his office. He scanned the items there like they might hold clues to how his life had gotten so out of his control. They didn’t, obviously. There were no new communications which was probably a good thing. He’d been hoping for an encoded message from Fury though he knew that was probably too obvious. He just couldn’t shake the idea that the other man was alive. 

He knew he was being delusional and he’d deal with it later but not now. For now he was compartmentalising. 

His sleeping space was across from his office and cramped, though he was aware the spaces the others had made his look spacious. He locked the door and started to strip methodically. It was like taking off armor, made him feel exposed. He might have slept in the suit but it’d have ruined it and he didn’t know when he was going to be able to get dry cleaning done again. He was aware that drycleaning should have been the least of his priorities but he did NOT want to walk into a confrontation without his suit. 

He tried to shut his brain down as he striped but that had never worked too well for him. There was a little bottle of pills in his sock drawer as a testament to Phil’s complex relationship with sleep but he couldn’t afford to take them now with only the prospect of a few hours before they entered an unknown situation. 

He put on the softed pajamas he owned and slid into bed, then lay there staring quietly at the ceiling. He really hated this ceiling. His ceiling at his place - the one he’d had before he died - he’d decorated. He spent too long staring at it so why not make it nice? He’d spent hours on sleepless nights painting patterns onto his ceiling and Audrey, his cellist, had thought it was a complete mess but at least there was always something for his eyes to follow as she lay sleeping next to him. 

He wasn’t allowed to paint the ceiling of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s bus and he hadn’t wanted to think about what the team would have thought of him if they’d seen it anyway. So all he had was blank white and his thoughts. 

His thoughts just weren’t a great place to be tonight. He needed the sleep, needed it so badly, but he wasn’t sure it was going to come. 

He couldn’t have been lying there for five minutes when the knock came at the door. He was all too eager to answer it, hoping for an emergency of some kind, and was pretty surprised to find Barton on his doorstep looking like he wasn’t sure he should be there. 

“Sir,” Barton said, shuffling forward. Phil moved back to accommodate him, letting Barton into his space. “Look, I’m gonna jump right to the point. Now the adrenaline’s wearing of I kind of need to crash but I can’t do it out there. I don’t...I know they’re your people so they’re good people but I don’t trust them. I won’t...would it be alright if I crashed on your floor? Just until we’re approaching the boat.” 

“Sure,” Phil said. He knew he should have taken longer to consider it but he’d shared sleeping space with Barton before, he knew the man was inoffensive enough and he couldn’t say the thought of having someone in the room to watch his back didn’t have it’s appeal. 

He dug a couple of spare blankets out of his closet and threw them at Barton and then retrieved a pillow from the bed. Barton took it gratefully and Phil watched him curl himself up on the floor before tucking himself back under his own blankets. It should have been harder to sleep with someone else in the room but, somehow, Barton made it easier and it wasn’t long before he felt his awareness begin to dim and sleep creep up on him. 

***

“So, here’s what we know so far,” Fitz said, sitting forward in his chair. They were gathered to debrief in the lounge. Fitz still seemed to be running mostly on coffee and nerves. May seemed worn down but she’d been flying this entire time. He needed to find them some safe downtime so she could sleep. It wouldn’t do to have her making mistakes. 

Skye was slumped back in her chair but she was in what he recognised as the grumpy stage of her waking up ritual so he wasn’t so worried about that. Jemma seemed as put together as ever and that was starting to worry him. He didn’t really want to see the cracks but he was sure they were there and he’d rather see them before they hit complete breakdown. 

Barton had been gone when Phil woke up. He didn’t know if the other man had gotten any sleep but he seemed alert enough now. He was sat on the back of a chair and nobody seemed to know what to say to him to move him. Phil had just rolled his eyes and left him. If he fell off Phil wasn’t cleaning up the mess. 

“Wait,” Skye said, shifting in her chair. “Do you actually have anything to tell us we didn’t know before we went to sleep?” 

“Yes,” Fitz insisted. “We haven’t been able to establish any kind of contact since the distress signal cut out. That’s new.” 

“That’s about all we have, though,” Jemma said, her smile saner than Fitz’s. “I’m sorry we can’t be much more help.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Phil said. He hadn’t expected much, still he’d rather they weren’t going in there so blind. “We make visual contact, see what we can see. If we can’t raise them by radio we’ll have to send someone down.” 

“That’ll be me,” Barton said, shifting on the back of his chair. The others cast him uncertain glances other than May when didn’t even seem to want to look at him. 

“Agent Barton is the most qualified,” Phil said. He didn’t really look the most qualified for anything right now but if Barton said he could do something Phil had no choice but to trust him at the moment. “If we have to we drop him and stay in contact. I’m hoping we won’t need to. Do we all understand.” 

There were a chorus of yeses and a lot of movement at the obvious dismissal. Barton dissapeared of to the weapons store, May to take the plane out of autopilot and FitzSimmons left for the lab as quickly as ever leaving him sat there with Skye. 

“So,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “Agent Barton?” 

“Yes?” Phil said, raising an eyebrow. 

“I kind of caught him creeping down from your room a little while ago. Good for you.” 

“He was sleeping,” Phil said with a sigh. Skye raised her eyebrow but he just shrugged. “We were...he was having trouble sleeping. This entire betrayal thing. He doesn’t even know this team after all. We’re not close, not really, but we’ve run plenty of missions before. He knows me, trust me.” 

“Do you trust him?” Skye asked. 

“Yes,” Phil lied. He honestly wasn’t sure if he fully trusted Barton yet but he obviously trusted the other man enough to sleep around him so maybe it wasn’t so much of a lie after all. “At the very least we need him right now.” 

“That’s kind of true,” Skye agreed. “And I guess if he turns out to be Hydra we can always throw him off the plane.” 

“True,” Phil said. He turned when he heard laughter behind him. 

“It’s that a little cold, sir?” Barton said. He was stood at the top of the stairs, suited up and ready to go. It seemed strange to see him without his bow but there wasn’t much any of them could do about that right now. 

He was saved from responding to that by Agent May’s voice calling for him over the tannoy. He shook his head and headed up to the cockpit. It didn’t take long to see why she’d called him. In the twilight he could see the boat sat dead in the water. No lights, nothing. 

“I take it that attempts to get them on the radio have failed?” he said with a sigh. It looked like any life that might have been on there was gone now. 

“Yep,” May said, slowly. He sighed. He just hated when things were messy. 

“Alright, I’ll get Barton down there and…” 

“Wait,” May cut him of, leaning over sharply. Phil followed her eyeline, the radar. There were dots on the radar. 

“Incoming?” he asked. She nodded, alright reacting with hand racing over the controls. He let her get on with it - whatever issues they were having in their personal relationship at the moment she was still the most competent pilot he’d ever seen. Instead he picked up the tannoy and used to to warn the others to buckle down. A few second later the door opened and Barton came into the room looking half panicked. 

“What’s going on?” he said, and Phil could only blink. He’d never seen Barton panic. Not like this. Something was wrong. He’d brought Barton into this situation without all the variables and now something was wrong. 

“We have incoming,” May said. “You need to strap down.” 

“Alright,” Barton said, but he looked reluctant to leave and no less panicked than he had been before. Phil took the co-pilot seat quickly, strapping in, and after a few moments Clint took the jump seat. He was only just strapped in when they took the first hit. 

May swore, swinging the plane around quickly. Phil clung to his seat and let her do her job. Maneuvering a plane this size wasn’t easy but May did it with style. It didn’t take long to realise the two planes attacking them had S.H.I.E.L.D. markings which probably meant Hydra. Which probably meant it’d been a trap from the outset. 

He spared a glance to Barton as they banked hard to the left. Barton was clutching his seatbelt so hard his knuckles were white. There was definitely something very not right there and he needed to know what it was. 

“Weapons,” May barked and Phil was quick to follow the order. He hadn’t handled this weapons system much but he knew the basics of it. After all, it involved pointing and shooting. He let May take lead, losing himself in the adrenaline and not paying attention to anything else until they were alone in the sky again. 

“We got them,” he called over the tannoy then turned to May. “Turn us around. I think we need to head back to the hub. Regroup, refuel.” 

“On it,” May said with an approving nod. He didn’t care if she approved, only that she did what he asked. Then he turned to his next problem. 

Barton wasn’t clutching at things any more and he didn’t looked panicked but his head was bowed and he hadn’t bothered to get out of his seat. Phil sighed and went over to him, laying a hand on his shoulder. Barton always responded best to a little physical encouragement. 

“Come on,” he said, urging Barton up. “We need to talk.” 

He should have been worried by how pliant Barton was, how easy it was to lead the other man but he didn’t have the energy for it. The lounge was deserted so nobody saw the defeated slump of Barton’s shoulders as they went through. Nobody but him. 

His office looked a mess. Too many exciting maneuvers lately, there was paper everywhere. He ended up taking Barton to the couch just for want of somewhere better to sit. 

“Alright,” he said, easing them both down. “Tell me what happened out there, Agent.” 

“I told you I was messed up,” Barton said, and he just sounded tired. “I...fuck, sir, I can’t even explain it right. Loki did something to my head and right after I was alright because I had to be but then things started seeming...it’s like I can’t do anything and I’m just so fucking scattered. It’s like I can’t put anything together in my head and I thought that an emergency would bring me clarity. Like in New York right after. Things made sense then. I thought...I thought I could do it. I’d have never volunteered to go if I didn’t think I could.” 

“But you didn’t give me all the variables,” Phil said with a sigh. He’d been worried it’d be something like this. He’d heard all about Selvig falling to pieces after Loki though it’s been very different from what Barton was describing. Of course their experiences had been very different but…

There was something else going on here and he didn’t like it at all. He just didn’t have the time to worry about it now. Not with Hydra. 

“I didn’t want you to leave me in that hell hole,” Barton said finally, and it took Phil a minute to link that comment to what they were talking about. 

“You thought if I knew this I would have left you there?” 

“Well, I’m not of any use,” Barton said with a shrug. “Why would you have someone here who’s no use.” 

“Because leaving you would be cruel,” Phil said. He’d have thought it was self-evident but obviously not. 

“Phil?” 

He looked up to see May stood in the doorway looking uncertainly between the two of them. Barton still looked like he was half afraid Phil was going to throw him out of the plane. He couldn’t deal with this right now. He knew it was cruel but he couldn't deal with any of this right now.

“I’ve contacted the hub,” May said, stepping inside. He could see Skye lurking behind her. He wondered if FitzSimmons were back there too. “They’ve told us that the military is incoming. They’ve been told to stand down and hand over their weapons.” 

“They’re going to surrender,” Phil asked, and he was sure his incredulity was seeping into his tone. 

“Yes,” May said simple. “They’ve advised us to join them. I can have us there before the military are scheduled…” 

“No.” 

“No?” May asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow and Phil wanted to...he wanted to punch her or to scream or something. Anything. 

“Don’t you see? This is what Hydra want? We don’t have time for this. We go back we’re going to be tied up for months in legal wrangling and all that time Hydra will be doing exactly what they want. We can’t let that happen.” 

“I don’t see that we have a choice, Phil,” May said, stepping closer. He retreated quickly behind his desk. There was a choice. There was always a choice. “Phil, S.H.I.E.L.D.’s gone.” 

“It’s not gone,” he growled. “I didn’t...it can’t just be gone! We still have our mission. As long as we have our mission S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t gone.” 

“But the Hub…” 

“Then we don’t go to the Hub,” Phil snapped. “We go to the Fridge. We get Ward. We’ll work it out from there.” 

“I don’t…” 

“I don’t give a damn what you do or don’t,” Phil shouted. “I’m not giving this up yet and if you don’t like if you know the way off this bus. It’s your choice, May.” 

“Fine,” May growled. “We’re going to the Freezer.” 

Then she was gone, stalking out of the door and he was left stood there, hands clenched into fists, shoulders shaking. S.H.I.E.L.D. was not gone and he was going to show her. He’d show everyone. They’d…he wasn’t even sure. Find Fury? Wipe out Hydra? What was he even trying to accomplish here? 

“Hey,” Barton said, and Phil looked up to see the other man had come closer. “You know, I know some really crappy breathing techniques that are meant to help with this kind of thing but don’t.” 

Phil snorted and was rewarded with one of Barton’s more open grins. He let the other man edge closer until their shoulders were pressed together then just stood for a moment and let himself lean. This was all such a mess but he had to keep it together. Had to keep them moving forward. 

“You feeling better?” Barton asked and Phil nodded though it was probably a lie. 

“I’m not going to be better until we have a direction,” Phil admitted. “One that doesn’t involve giving up.” 

“I get that,” Barton agreed. “I know I’m kind of useless right now but anything I can do…” 

He knew he should get Barton out of the plane. Should stop at the nearest runway and put Barton down and let him run but the most ridiculous thing was he didn’t want to. He looked at Barton and he remembered who he was. Remembered the man who ran ops for the best agents that S.H.I.E.L.D. had. That man would be able to cope with this. He could cope with this. 

“For now, I need to think,” Phil said. “But we’re a while from the fridge and I could use some sleep before we get there. Maybe in half an hour.” 

“I’ll go stow my gear,” Clint said, stepping away. “Be back soon.” 

Phil watched him go then began straightening his desk. He waited a few second to call out of Skye who came slinking in like there was a chance he hadn’t noticed she was still hanging around out there. 

“How are you holding up?” he asked, sorting some papers. Skye snorted and came over to stand next to him. 

“You know what?” she said, picking up something that should have been classified but he supposed it was all over the internet now. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.” 

“Good call,” he said, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “I need you to do some things for me. The first is I need you to gather everyone’s badges. Better to have them out of people’s hands at this point since we’re going off the radar. Then I need you to make us disappear digitally. Everything you can - gone.” 

“Isn’t that a bit extreme?” she asked. 

“We don’t know who’s after us. We don’t know if we’re being targeted specifically or just anyone S.H.I.E.L.D. related. I don’t think we can be too careful.” 

“That is a good point,” Skye said. “Alright, I’ll go get the badges.” 

“Thank you,” Phil said. He waited until she was gone then went back to filing papers while he waited for her and Barton to return.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follows episode 18 mostly. Phil and Clint grow closer.

“You know,” Skye said, laying the badges on the desk. “This is kind of difficult. I mean, I know I’ve only been an agent for, like, five minutes but I don’t want to hand this over. Jemma almost cried when I took hers.” 

“I understand the sentiment,” Phil said, reaching into his pocket and taking out his badge. He ran his fingers over it. It had been with him for most of his life. “When Fury recruited me I was barely out of high school.” Barely out of high school and in the army. Too smart, too cocky. He didn’t know what Fury had seen in him back then, maybe the same thing he’d seen years later in a mark named Clint Barton. 

He wondered, not for the first time, if he should have been Barton’s S.O. himself. Training an agent was never something that had appealed to him but he wondered if things would be different between them if he’d been the one to earn Barton’s trust. 

“You know,” Skye said, laying her badge reluctantly with the rest of them. “For a few minutes there I thought I belonged to something.” 

“You still do,” Phil said quickly, grabbing the badges and turning to unlock his safer. “Just because we’re not carrying badges doesn’t mean we’re not agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. I’ve not tgiven up yet. You shouldn’t either.” 

“It’s just difficult,” Skye said. He dropped the badges in the safe and turned to look at her. She looked tired. Looked like she was at the end of her endurance and he wished he could make it better for her somehow but he didn’t think he could. Didn’t know if it was his place to even think about offering support anyway. He wasn’t too stable himself, he wasn’t sure he could hold someone else up too. 

The door opened and both of them looked up as Barton came in. He looked as tired as Skye, as tired as Phil felt. Like he was on the verge of giving up too and Phil knew that wasn’t right. Barton was the most stubborn, tenacious person he knew. 

“Oh, hey,” Barton said, looking between them like he was reconsidering walking in on them. “Did I interrupt something?” 

“No,” Phil said. “Skye was just bringing me everyone’s badges. I take it you don’t have yours?” 

“Nope,” Barton agreed. “they took it of me when they put me in that facility. But, just out of curiosity, should one of those badges be lit up?” 

Phil spun and, yeah, one of the badges was letting out a faint red light. He grabbed it and took it out of the safe. Once it was in his hand he recognised the slight wear on the lower left corner where he tended to worry it with his fingers. His badge. He flipped it open quickly and along the bottom of the badge were a series of numbers. 

“Coordinates,” Barton said, stepping further into the room and letting the door close. “That your badge, sir?” 

“It is,” Phil said. As he stared at it he felt a grin spread across his face. “There’s only one person who’d do this and this is exactly his style.” 

***

“So, Fury’s alive?” Simmons said, excited. 

“Seems like it,” Phil said. He felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders now he had some proof. He’d hoped but hope alone wasn’t enough to sustain him. This was proof. 

“Did he send instructions?” Fitz asked. 

“Just coordinates,” Phil said, laying his badge on the table for them all to see. The numbers were still glowing red. 

“It’ll put us somewhere in the Canadian wilderness,” Skye said, pulling up the map they’d made before calling this meeting. 

“We don’t know what’s out there,” Barton said, gesturing at the map. “We can’t see anything on the satellite images but this is SHIELD. Just because you can’t see anything doesn’t mean it isn’t there.” 

“Are you sure this is from Fury?” May asked. She was stood back a little from the group watching them all. “It could be anyone.” 

“It’s Fury,” Phil said, picking up the badge again. “This is the way he operates.” 

“And he’s communicated with you like this before?” Simmons asked, her smile a little too hopeful. 

“He won’t have,” Barton said before Phil could defend himself. “Fury likes having the upper edge and that means never doing what you expect him too. If he’s not dead but he wants people to think he is he’ll not use a mode of communication he’s used before. He’s also totally the kind of guy who’d have an action plan in case he ever needed to fake his own death.” 

“That’s true,” May admitted, slowly. “But I think we need to be prepared for that option that this is as likely to be Hydra as Fury.” 

“And there’s nothing wrong with being prepared,” Phil agreed, “But this badge was handed to me by Fury himself. Both the first time, when I became an Agent, and after I died. It’s not just a badge, it’s a promise. A promise to protect people, to never give in. To stand up against gods and monsters and Hydra and everyone else who wants to hurt people. To be the shield. Fury understood that, understood that I got it too. This has to be him. It has to.” 

“If it isn’t…” 

“If it isn’t then at least we’ve tried,” Barton said. “It’s as good an option as any other.” 

“And if anyone doesn’t agree they know where the parachutes are,” Phil finished. He turned to walk back up the stairs to his office, aware of Barton following quickly after. That hadn’t been quite as bad as it might have been, thought he’d have appreciated more support from his team. At least someone had his back. 

***

Phil found that even with a body in the room he couldn’t sleep. Clint, however, didn’t seem to have that problem so Phil left him curled on the floor and went back to his office. He took the badge out again and looked at it, traced the digits with his thumb. It had to be a message. He had to believe that. Anything else…

“Phil?” he looked up to find May stood in the doorway. She was looking around as though she expected to find Clint hiding in a corner. Phil very pointedly didn’t look over to the door to his sleeping area, left open a little. 

“What do you want?” he asked, laying the badge down on the desk. 

“I’m here for your weapon.” 

“And what makes you think that’s an option?” Phil asked, standing. He glanced a movement through the open door and something inside him unwound. He knew it was probably a bad thing that he was trusting Barton with so much so easily but he brain had never had as much to do with where his trust landed as he’d like. 

“There are things you don’t know,” May said, stepping closer and talking quickly. “You’re different, Phil. They messed around in your brain and you’re different. You trust Fury, I’m worried that it’s something else. What if Tahiti isn’t the only thing they left in there.” 

“Fury ordered that,” Phil said, frowning. 

“But he wasn’t in charge of it,” May said, taking another step closer. It took Phil a second longer to process that than it should have. Someone else. Honestly, he hadn’t been comfortable with the thought of someone else being in his brain anyway but Fury, at least, he trusted. But Fury had left it to someone else. 

“Who?” he asked, taking a step back. 

“I don’t know, Phil,” May said, mirroring his movement to follow him. He suddenly wanted her away. Away from him and off this plane. She was lying to him still now and he couldn’t stand it. 

“Who?” he asked again, and he knew there was anger in his voice. He couldn’t help the way his fists clenched. 

“I don’t know,” May repeated. 

“I’m not giving you my weapon,” he said. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Barton come to stand in the door, his own weapon drawn. 

“Phil, this is for all our safety.” 

“You can try to take it if you want,” Barton said. May spun to glare at him, apparently surprised by him. There weren’t many people in the world who would sneak up on her and Phil was absurdly happy to have one of them on his team. “That might not work out too well for you.” 

May hesitated, looked between them and apparently didn’t like what she saw so turned and left the room. Barton waited a few seconds to be sure she was gone before lowering his gun and flicking the safety back on. 

“So,” Barton said, turning to Phil. “When you said they messed with your brain…” 

It was possible that when Phil had told Barton what happened to him he’d glossed over some of the more unpleasant parts. Well, if he was going to be with them for a while he’d better know the truth. Phil was starting to suspect that, as much as lying was part of being a spy, it wasn’t actually a healthy way to run a team. 

“They changed my memories,” Phil said, going to sit back in his chair. Barton hesitated for a second then moved to sit down across from him. “I don’t...I’m still not entirely sure what happened to me.” 

“You told me your were dead for a week,” Barton prompted when Phil wasn’t immediately forthcoming. 

“Yes. I was able to regain some of my memories. I don’t know what was done to me exactly but I know I begged for them to let me die.” 

“Shit,” Barton hissed. “That’s pretty heavy.” 

“It is,” Phil agreed. “They covered those memories with memories of Tahiti. I thought I’d only been dead for seconds, that I spent some time recuperating on a tropical island. Needless to say that didn’t happen. I thought that all they did was implant the false memories of Tahiti but if what May’s saying is true…” 

“You don’t know that what she’s saying is true,” Barton said. “For what it’s worth, I believe in you. I mean, I know I’m kind of a mess right now but I think you’re on the right trail. This entire thing just stinks of Fury and his way of doing things. He must have known Hydra was here and have been trying to get them out without it coming to this.” 

“We can hope,” Phil agreed. “Look, I don’t think I’m going to sleep until we’ve seen this through but if you want to use my bed…” 

“If it’s all the same,” Barton said, suddenly looking sheepish. “I’d kind of rather sit up with you. I mean, if it won’t disturb you.” 

“No,” Phil said, sitting back in his chair. “Though, while we’re both here doing nothing, maybe we could go over the missions we’ve worked together? Look for signs that my memory doesn’t match yours?” 

“Sure,” Clint said, slumping back in his chair. “You want to start with when you brought me in?” 

***

Barton’s memories matched Phil's. Or seemed to, anyway. Phil was pretty sure he hadn’t been expecting anything else, why would Hydra mess with his memories of Barton? Phil seemed to remember things in a lot more detail than Barton. The other man had seemed uncertain at times and that unnerved Phil. He was used to Barton being sharp. 

It was all a little worrying. He couldn’t help but remember that Barton had admitted to being on some pretty strong psychiatric medication and he hadn’t had it in days. He seemed, well, stable-ish but that didn’t mean he’d stay that way. 

He’d had a lot of time to think about it as they trecked through the snow from the bus to the coordinates from his badge. It was easier than worrying about if his team trusted him. Easier than worrying that this was all some kind of elaborate Hydra trap after all. It was, at least, easier to block out how the other members of his team were casting him doubting looks with Barton walking at his side. Easier to ignore how they were whispering about him. Easier to pretend things were still normal though they clearly weren’t. 

He tried not to let his hope grow as they got closer to the coordinated. It was harder and harder to stay focused as they got nearer. He’d put everything into this play, it had to work out. 

When they reached the coordinates in an empty clearing he didn’t let himself panic. Of course the place wasn’t out in the open, it wouldn't be. It was a S.H.I.E.L.D. base, it’s be hidden. He heard Barton announce to the others that they were there and started to hunt for some kind of sign. Anything. 

“There’s nothing here,” May said. Phil spun to look at her and realize that he and Barton were the only ones looking. The rest of the team were stood watching them. 

“There’ll be something,” he insisted. “It won’t be out in the open but there’ll be something here.” 

“But there isn’t anything here,” Simmons said, looking forlornly around them. “We should go back to the bus and regroup.” 

“There’s no point,” Phil said. He’d hoped to not have to reveal this. May knew, of course, but he’d rather the others didn’t. “I used all the fuel we had to get us here.” 

“You what?” Skye asked, incredulous, and he hadn’t expected her to be the one to turn on him. He looked over his shoulder to see even Barton had stopped looking and was now watching him incredulously like he couldn’t be serious. 

“It was the right play,” he insisted. “Fury’s sent us these coordinates for a reason. They mean something. They have to mean something.” They looked at him blankly and he found words tumbling out of his lips. “The world needs us. Hydra is out there. We cannot let them win. We cannot let them define us. Do you understand that. We are Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and that still carries weight. It has to carry weight. After everything we’ve been through that carries weight!” 

He didn’t realise he was shouting until he ran out of words. He looked around at their blank faces, even Barton was looking at him like Phil had maybe just lost it, like his faith might have been misplaced and Barton had stuck with him the longest. He didn’t want to let them. Down, didn’t want to let any of them down but this was important. This was from Fury, it had to be. He knew Fury, knew he was right! 

Before he could think he was throwing the badge in frustration, the word sorry leaving his mouth the second he did. He was sorry. He’d made a mess of everything again and he was sorry. Maybe they were right. Maybe he had lost it. 

The apology was almost eaten by the machine gun fire. He dropped to the floor as the others did, looked around to check they were all okay before stopping to look at the gun. He’d been right. There was something here. He wasn’t mad. 

“Looks like we found it,” Barton yelled. “Everyone stay down.” 

“Really not going to be a problem,” Simmons yelled back. The gun stopped firing but remained raised, moving. He hoped like hell it was manned. 

“How do we get in?” Fitz asked, watching the thing. 

“We don’t even know it’s a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility,” May reminded them, crouched next to Phil. He knew that, he really did, but he couldn’t come this far and be wrong now. It was S.H.I.E.L.D., it had to be. He’s always trusted his instinct before and now they were telling him this place was safe for them. 

“One way to find out,” he said and stood slowly, moving into range of the thing. He heard Barton cursing behind him but he ignored it for now. The gun moved to point at him and then asked him to identify himself. When he did the gun moved, and just like that, a wall was opening, sliding out and he was right. He’d been right and they were safe. 

“Damn,” Barton breathed, the first one to come stand beside him again. “You know, I kind of doubted you for a second there Sir but it looks like you were right.” 

“I hope so,” Phil said. He waited until the others emerged and then, slowly, lead the way inside.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little early and a little short as I'm away this weekend trying to relive the misspent days of my youth. I hope you enjoy it anyway, I'll be back to posted at the weekend next week probably. This one takes us up to the end of ep 18 and tells us a little more about what's up with Clint.

The place they were walking into had the air of a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. A kind of functional blandness that most people would probably find unnerving but to Phil it was like coming home. He’d overseen construction of buildings like this, this place was S.H.I.E.L.D.

Of course, at the moment, that didn’t mean it wasn’t Hydra too but, well, at least they hadn’t been lured here by some as yet unknown third party. 

“What is this place?” Skye asked, standing to his left. Clint was lurking to his right and he was still choosing not to focus on how reassuring it was to have Clint there. 

“One of Fury’s secret bases,” a voice said. Phil stopped as a man came out of one of the side corridors, adjusting his tie as he did. Phil didn’t have much respect for people who had to adjust their ties as they came through doorways. It was always better to take the few seconds to look professional before you made your entrance. “I call it provenance. I mean, technically it doesn’t have a name with it being a secret base but…” 

Phil let the silence hang for a second while the man took a few breaths. He seemed less than phased by their arrival which meant they had been expected. Phil still wasn’t sure if that was a good thing of a bad thing but it made him twitchy. Made Clint twitchy too if the way he stepped in a little closer was anything to go by. 

“If you’ll follow me,” the man said, heading away before any of them had a chance to reply. There really wasn’t much for it so they followed him. He lead them through into a kind of lounge or cantine or something. Deserted. Phil wasn’t sure what he’d been hoping for out here but this wasn’t it. 

“Cool, right?” the guy said, and Phil really couldn’t let this go on any longer. 

“Who are you?” 

“I’m Agent Eric Koenig, level 5,” the guy said, pulling out a lanyard. He seemed easy going enough. Likeable enough. Phil didn’t like him. 

“Phil Coulson,” he said, holding his hand out for Koenig to shake. There was no point trying to hide his identity, after all.

“I know,” Koenig said with a grin, shaking Phil’s hand quickly. “And just let me apologize for the kerfuffle outside. That thing’s only programmed to shoot a moving metal object…” 

“My badge,” Phil offered. 

“Ah,” Koenig replied. “That might prove difficult to replace. But you will soon by issued with a lanyard.” The man seemed entirely too happy about lanyards. Phil guessed from the way Clint had stepped in closer to him that he thought that too. He really hoped he hadn’t walked his team into a trap. 

“The rest of you,” Koenig said, looking past Phil. “Will be issued lanyards on a case by base basis.” 

May smiled at Koenig, the kind of dangerous smile that made Phil wish they were still taking. Barton just edged closer again. It was almost a little clingy, Phil suddenly wasn’t so sure about any of this. 

“What about Fury?” Phil asked, reaching out to lay a hand on Clint’s arm. He wasn’t really good at reassuring people but it seemed like it would be a reassuring gesture. He kept his hand there as the man told them Fury was dead so he felt how Clint didn’t react. He looked back to meet Clint’s eye and was glad to be met with skepticism. He wasn’t sure he believed it either. He almost missed Koenig saying something about the fridge falling. 

His eyes went straight to Skye. She was looking for him and took the eye contact as an excuse to take out her phone and dial. He heard Koenig ask who was was calling but let May field the question, tightening his hand on Clint’s arm until the call picked up and Skye smiled. Great. He didn’t want to lose any more team members right now. 

“Okay,” he said, letting go of Barton. “Make yourselves comfortable for now. I think we can afford a short break before we need to think about our next steps.” 

“Of course,” Koenig said. Phil smiled at the man like he’d actually intended to listen of Koenig had told them to stop. “Agent Coulson, can I just talk to you alone for a second.” 

“No,” Barton answered before Phil could agree, lifting a hand to touch Phil’s elbow. 

“Agent Koenig, this is Agent Barton,” Phil said, gesturing between the two men. “I’m sure his clearance level is high enough to hear whatever you have to say.” 

Koenig blinked and looked at Barton again, clearly reassessing him. Phil was definitely liking the clinging less, he was pretty sure he could deal with whatever Koenig wanted to say, but there was something appealing about having Barton there. Something he wasn’t sure was entirely professional. More he’d like him there in the same way he’d like the rest of his team there but with Barton there was a chance they might convince Koenig it was the right course. 

“Alright, of course,” Koenig agreed, and Clint and Phil followed him through to an office, leaving the others for now. His office was kind of spacious. Cozy. Phil couldn’t help but ask about the windows. 

“They’re meant to reduce the isolation,” Koenig said. “Wednesday’s a doozy if you like topless beaches.” 

“Just how long have you been down here?” Barton asked, moving closer to the window. Maybe he was hoping to see one of those topless beaches now. 

“Since the battle of New York,” Koenig said casually, like that wasn’t such a big deal. Phil couldn’t imagine being locked here alone for that long. “It’s not so bad. I’m reading a lot of historical fiction. Logging some serious call of duty hours with my brother. You play?” 

“I used to,” Phil said. Clint just laughed. Phil turned to look at him, eyebrow raised. 

“Our jobs and you go him and play COD, sir? Isn’t it a little anticlimactic compared to reality?” 

“I like to relax,” Phil said, and he had to admit he was a little pleased when Barton laughed again. He got the impression the other man hadn’t been laughing enough recently. It was a good look on him. 

“Anyway,” Phil said, turning back to Koenig. “Did you have something to tell us?” 

“Oh, yes,” Koenig said. “Fury’s not dead. He made it out of D.C.. Hydra think he’s dead and we’d like to keep it that way. Only a few people know. Cap, the Widow, us three now, Hill, a handful of others. We just need to keep it between ourselves for now.” 

“You’re asking me to lie to my team?” Phil asked. 

“Yes,” Koenig replied, and at least he was being upfront about it. 

“I’m not comfortable with that,” he said. 

“Well, if you do tell them we’re going to have a problem,” Koenig said, all the joviality gone out of him. He still wasn’t quite threatening but Phil knew better than to underestimate people just because they didn’t look threatening. 

“Are you threatening me?” he asked. Barton was back next to him in a second and, in a way, this was what Phil had been afraid of when they walked in here together. Barton had never been good at low-key and delicate negotiations. 

“Yes,” Koenig said, looking past Phil at Barton. Phil could incapacitate him now but they might need him yet. “Fury’s orders. Do we understand each other?” 

“Yes,” Phil said, giving a hand signal for Clint to stand down. The other man did, backing away reluctantly. 

“Good,” Koenig said, suddenly grinning again. “Do you want to head back and get settled and I’ll take care of some lanyards.” 

“Sure,” Phil said. He very intentionally didn’t head to the door too quickly, though Barton did. He was normally better at stealth than this. Not on the level of Natasha of course but he was almost bleeding anxiety right now. Phil got him out of the room quickly, taking them a little way down the corridor before stopping to talk. 

“Alright,” he said, taking Barton’s arm again. “What’s wrong?” 

“I...I thought it was nothing but...shit, sir. You should have left me somewhere. I think something’s going wrong with me. The drugs...it has to be that I don’t have the drugs but I can’t concentrate right. I can’t even think clearly.” 

“I need you on this, Barton,” Phil said, tightening his hold on Clint’s arm. “You can do this.” 

“What if I can’t,” Barton said. “The doctors said I might never do this again. Not after what Loki did to me.” 

“You will do this,” Phil said, keeping his voice calm. “You can’t fell to pieces on me here, I need you. Do you know what they were giving you there?” 

“No?” Barton said, frowning. “Some experimental stuff. They injected it. It was kind of blue? I don’t know. They said something about how I was never going back into the field anyway so they might as well try this and, sir, I hated the stuff. It made me feel like I was scattered, you know. Incompetent. But not like this. If I can’t even keep it together with a guy like Koenig threatening you what am I going to do if we do run into Hydra?” 

“You’re going to do what you need to,” Phil said, tightening his grip on Barton’s arm. He hadn’t heard anything about this and, yeah, Selvig was kind of a mess but nothing on the level Barton was talking about. Nothing on the level that should have taken Barton out of the field permanently. Unless it wasn’t so much the actual effect as the fact Barton was compromised. 

After all, how did you ever trust an asset again after they’d been controlled inside their own head by a god? How would you even know you’d really gotten him out? Sure, it looked like they beat Loki but Phil had read the legends. Loki was more cunning than they were currently giving him credit for and he played a long game. 

Which left the question - if medical was never going to let Barton into the field again because he was compromised so they might as well drug him, what exactly were these drugs he was being given? 

He needed to get Skye on that in the mess of data dumped on the internet asap. Until they Clint didn’t seem to have pulled the threads together yet so there was that going for him at least. 

“It’s alright,” he said, rubbing at Barton’s arm. Barton leant into the touch so Phil let himself enjoy it a little. “You need to stay calm. For now, let me handle the talking stuff. Just stay close. We’re going to work this out.” 

“Thank you,” Barton said, and he seemed so desperately glad to be close it was either heartbreaking or suspicious. Phil really wished he could stop suspecting everything but, right now, he was also afraid that was all that was keeping him and his team alive.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ward rejoins the group.

Phil leant back against the counter and watched as Fitz and Simmons bandaged Ward. It was good to have everyone back in the same place - it felt like progress. He could look around and see that every member of his team was safe. Look around and know that he was safe here too. 

Though the safety wasn’t going to last for long since apparently the fridge was now open and everyone was out. But, for now, safe. 

He kept half an eye on Barton. The other man had been quiet since their conversation earlier though he’d stayed close. The bunker had dorm style sleeping arrangements and when they’d both managed to catch a few hours it hadn’t escaped his notice that Barton took the bed closest to his. He’d feel better if he knew what had been done to Barton exactly but there wasn’t time for that right now. 

He couldn’t help but notice Ward kept eyes on Barton too. Someone he didn’t expect to be here. It was understandable given the way the world was right now that he was a little untrusting. None of them really trusted Barton yet. Phil hoped he wasn’t leading them wrong. 

“At least they didn’t get this,” Ward said, pulling out the hard drive. Phil relaxed a little to see it. Good, they hadn’t lost every advantage. 

“Good, I can start decrypting it,” Skye said, reaching for it quickly. 

“What’s on it?” Barton asked, leaning forward a little. Ward moved the drive back protectively, not letting Skye take it fully from his hands until Barton had backed away again. 

“Every piece of research our team’s done,” Phil supplied in the silence that followed the little power-play between Barton and Ward. “Skye downloaded it from the bus when things were just starting to go to hell.” 

“Good to have, then,” Barton said, backing away further. Skye nodded, glancing between Ward and Barton but not saying anything. 

“Skye,” he said, drawing her attention back to him. “Before you start with that I’m going to need you to compile a list of inmates at the fridge. I need to know how bad the situation is.” 

“I’ll get right on it,” Skye said, heading for the door. Fitz and Simmons started talking again when she was gone and, when Phil turned around, Barton had left the room too. He felt strange for a second and then he realised this was the first time Barton had left his side since this entire thing started. 

It shouldn’t bother him but it did. 

***

It said something about the situation that Phil only thought of Daniels when the room was clear and he had some breathing space. He should have thought of him first, of course, but there was a lot going on right now. He was going to have to take a team out, that much was clear. The problem was who. 

Ward was out, too injured. That meant taking May or Barton. Normally he’d say Barton given how he felt about May right now but, for reasons entirely unrelated to Hydra, he knew he couldn’t trust Barton to fly the plane. 

But he was also a little concerned about what was going to happen if he left Barton and Ward alone together. They clearly had issues with each other - or Ward had issues with Barton. He’d have to play it by ear but he needed to be off the ground soon. He knew Daniels and he knew right where the man would head. 

Right to a place Phil had been trying very hard not to think about. 

He managed to give Skye fifteen minutes before he went to find her. She didn’t look happy when he came in - he couldn't blame her. 

“How bad is it?” 

He jumped and turned, finding Barton lurking in the doorway behind him. He wondered how long the other man had been following him, felt disconcerted that he hadn’t noticed it. Skye looked up then looked between the two of them. Phil shrugged. It wasn’t like he had to hide anything from Barton at the moment. 

“Pretty bad,” Skye said with a sigh. “I mean, turns out the guy who shot me it probably the most normal of the lot.” 

“What did you expect?” Phil turned again to find May had joined Barton in the doorway. He wondered if May had been trailing Barton. Wondered it someone had been trailing May, like some extended spy style conga line. This was getting ridiculous. “It’s a top secret holding facility. Most of those people are psychopaths.” 

“And some of them have superpowers,” Skye said, wrinkling her nose. 

“I need you to check the list for Marcus Daniels,” Phil said, gesturing for May and Barton to come fully into the room. They did so slowly, avoiding being too near to each other. Brilliant. 

Skye checked and then turned the laptop around. Daniels’ file was up, the man looking out from his mugshot. Phil hadn’t seen that face in a long time, had hoped to never see it again. 

“Alright,” Phil said, resigned. He was going to have to take a team out. “I need you to do some data analysis. Look for upticks in crime - might indicate where these people are going.” 

“Sure,” Skye said, “But it’s going to take time and I’m going to need more computing power. Koenig might…” 

“I’m sure he’ll help,” Phil said. “May, go check the plane Ward flew in on. I’m going to take a splinter team and start going after these people.” 

“Are you sure that’s wise?” May asked, leaning forward onto the table. “Splitting us up. We’re safe here.” 

“I hate to agree,” Barton interrupted. “But, well, we’re kind of all over the place right now. Wouldn’t it be better to stay here and regroup. Stay safe.” 

Brilliant, neither of them wanted to go. He wondered if he was going to be able to run an op with just FitzSimmons. Not that he wouldn’t order them if he needed to but neither of them had been particularly good at taking his orders when they didn’t want to. 

“We’re S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Phil said, looking from Barton to May slowly. “That means we protect people. If we hide down here with the door shut we’re not a shield, we’re not anything. These people are going to go out there and kill. We need to stop them. I’m taking a team.” 

He turned and left then, listening to the scramble behind him. He hoped May still respected him enough to get the plane in order. He needed to talk to Koenig. 

***

“There’s no way you’re leaving this base,” Koenig said, shaking his head emphatically. “There are protocols.” 

“Now’s probably not the time for protocol,” Phil argued. “S.H.I.E.L.D.’s gone.” 

“Fine,” Koenig said. “But this is a secret base. You’ve already brought in a load of people.” 

“Agents.” 

“Whoever. I don’t know who they are. I can’t trust them. They go out there, they could be on the phone to Hydra and we’ll have them knocking on our door in hours. Nobody leaves until you go through orientation.” 

“Orientation?” 

***

Phil followed his team into the room and nearly ran into Barton’s back when the other man froze. He looked around Barton to see Koenig turning a chair and, yeah, that looked a little intimidating and definitely wasn’t just a normal chair but that didn’t explain the way Barton had gone completely still. 

“Alright, I’m just going to need you guys to answer a few questions,” Koenig said, turning. 

“What the fuck is that?” Barton interrupted before Koenig could get another word out. The team members who hadn’t already picked up on something being wrong with Barton looked over and noticed it now. 

“This is THE lie detector,” Koenig said, a hint of pride of his voice. “This thing measures 96 different variables. Fury designed this himself. He wanted a lie detector Romanov couldn’t beat.” 

“You put Nat in that thing?” Barton asked, and there was a hint of panic in his voice. Phil stepped aside quickly, leaving the path open in case Barton needed to leave the room. He wouldn’t get very far - the base was on lockdown. 

“Sure,” Koenig said. “I mean, the thing’s harmless unless you’ve got something to hide.” 

“No,” Barton said, backing towards the door. “You’re not putting me in that thing.” 

“Relax,” Koenig said, raising an eyebrow. “It won’t hurt.” 

Barton was out of the door before he finished the sentence. Phil couldn’t say he was surprised. Disappointed, maybe. 

“I’ll deal with that,” he said, gesturing at the door. “The rest of you, get going. The sooner we’re clear the sooner we can get out of here.” 

“Sure,” Skye said, glancing around. “I mean, I guess I’ll go first.” 

“Thank you,” Phil said, giving her arm a grateful squeeze. Honestly, Skye was the person in the room he had the fewest doubts about. It’d be nice to have them all cleared, though. 

He headed out, letting the others follow him. He didn’t know where Barton was likely to go but he suspected he’d have to deal with someone else first so he headed to the hanger. The others broke off quickly to wait nearby but one quiet set of footsteps followed him. 

He waited until they were out in the middle of the hanger and away from anywhere someone was likely to be lurking to stop and turn to face May. She didn’t seem surprised to know he’d known she was there. 

“Say it,” he said. She raised an elegant eyebrow like whatever she was going to say was something obvious but he wasn’t going to play her games. She wanted to talk - she’d have to talk. 

“Barton wouldn’t take the lie detector.” Phil had hoped it wasn’t going to be this but he should have known he wouldn’t be that lucky. 

“I’ll talk to him.” 

“You shouldn't be with him alone,” May said, voice calm and level. “Have you considered that he might be Hydra?” 

Yes, Phil had considered that Barton might be Hydra. He’d been trying to push it down but his thoughts kept circling back to it. They’d found him alone in a facility that should have been busy. Why had he been left? Phil didn’t even have any proof he’d been there as a patient beyond Barton’s words. He could have gone over to Hydra months ago - been planted in the Infirmary for them to find. He could be a mole. 

Phil didn’t want to believe it, he really didn’t want to believe it, but he’d be a fool not to acknowledge it as a possibility. 

“I’ll talk to him,” he said again. “Alone. But you know where I’m going - if you need to find me.” 

It was the closest thing to acquiescence she was going to get. She’d made it very clear that she didn’t like Barton and he was sure she had her reasons but right now he needed Barton to talk to him, to trust him. That meant going alone. 

May nodded, clearly accepting if not liking his decision, and stepped back. Phil walked away quickly. He knew a thing or two about Barton. He knew Barton’s method of going to ground. Find a small space - stay in it. In a facility like this there was no way the air ducts would be big enough for a full grown man to crawl through so there was no chance of Barton dropping out of the ceiling at least. He followed a hunch and headed down towards the entrance to the base. It was one of the most isolated areas, nobody would come down here. 

Nobody who wasn’t running, anyway. 

He found Barton in a small side room intended to store outdoor gear. The other man was curled up in a ball under the coats and staring resolutely forward. He looked for all the world like a naughty child hiding from its parents. 

Phil considered a moment and then sunk down to sit next to him on the floor. The coats were soft against his back and, after trekking the facility looking for Barton, it was nice to sit down. Barton didn’t move but his jaw didn’t tighten. 

“Would you care to explain to me,” Phil said, leaning back. “What exactly is your problem with lie detectors.” 

“Don’t want my head messed with,” Clint said, apparently having the answer to hand. It was almost a reasonable answer, too. If the machine had messed with your head. 

“See, my problem here,” Phil said, stretching his legs out in front of him, “Is that right now I don’t know who to trust. We have a machine and I’m not naive enough to think it can’t be manipulated but it would go a long way to proving who we can trust and who we can’t. I also have one team member who refuses to use that machine. What conclusion might I draw about that team member?” 

“I’m not Hydra,” Barton growled. “I’m not, I don’t even care what you think.” 

“Well, that’s your prerogative,” Phil said with a shrug. “But you need to be aware that I AM going to leave this base on a mission. I’d wanted you along but if you’re not capable…” 

“Maybe I’m not, anyway,” Clint growled, curling in on himself. “I’m fucking broken, Coulson.” 

“I know,” Phil admitted. “But I only know one way to fix that and that’s to try again. It’s not easy. It’s probably a stupid way of doing things but you got through the battle of New York - you’re capable of fighting. Loki didn’t destroy you entirely - you need to believe that.” 

“I’m not sure I do,” Clint said, and somewhere in there his shoulders had slumped, his posture sinking into defeat. “I’m just so fucking tired of it all, boss. I should have just let Hydra kill me.” 

“But you didn’t,” Phil pointed out. “That means you still want this. You want to live - to get better. Clint, I don’t know if I can help but I know sitting in this closet won’t help. I know the Clint Barton I knew wasn’t as fearless as he’d have liked everyone to believe but he tried anyway. I know you don’t want to do this but I need you to try.” 

Silence hung in the air for a moment. Phil hadn’t realised how badly he wanted Barton to get through this until he was here sat on the floor with him. If Barton came through he’d have saved one person. It wasn’t much but it wasn’t nothing. He needed Barton not to be Hydra. He needed him to be fixable. 

“They had machines like that chair in the infirmary,” Barton said, slowly. “Maybe not exactly, but like enough. I...I hated them and I can’t even remember why. That’s fucked up, right? I feel like I’ve been living in a cloud since the battle of New York and I’m only just realising.” 

“The lie detector won’t hurt you,” Phil said. “You said you trusted me. I’ll stay in the room. I won’t let anything hurt you.” 

Barton seemed to think that over for a few minutes then he nodded jerkily and climbed to his feet. Phil rose with him, reaching out to squeeze his arm as they made their way back out of the closet. 

By the time they got back to the lie detector room everyone else had passed and cleared out. Koenig made a small objection to Phil staying in the room but he dropped it when he saw the line of tension in Barton and just set about plugging him in. Phil had to admit the thing was kind of weird. Made him think about altered memories and beaches that never really existed and begging to die, the way the machine curved around the head. He didn’t blame Barton entirely for this. 

“Alright,” Koenig said, stepping back behind the console. “Let’s start. A few baseline questions first. Can I get your full name?” 

“Clinton Francis Barton,” Barton said, gaze flickering to Phil as he said it. Phil looked down at the console. Barton was obviously stressed, but he should still show if he lied. Phil hoped so anyway. 

“Ever been married?” 

“Once,” Barton said, flushing a little. “Bad mistake, she got buyers remorse and sent me back.” 

Phil had known about Barton’s relationship with Bobby Moore in a strange kind of gossip way. He’d heard about a rushed marriage that had fallen apart over the next few months but he hadn’t quite believed it. Hadn’t wanted to pry so hadn’t looked it up and by the time Clint came close enough to work with him he’d never mentioned it. It was just strange that he should get Clint’s secrets this way. 

Strange and invasive. Phil suddenly wasn’t so sure about this entire thing. 

“Please list your immediate family.” 

“My brother,” Clint said, a frown settling on his features. “He’s not in the picture anymore, really.” 

“What’s the difference between an egg and a rock?” 

“Can scramble eggs,” Clint said, confusion on his face and it was oddly adorable. Phil pushed down that thought, definitely not the time for it now. “Can scramble someone else with a rock.” 

“Have you ever heard of project insight?” 

“No.” 

“Ever had any contact with Alexander Pierce?” 

“A mission once - he needed extra security and I was on the team. I was always the eyes up high, though. I never got to meet him. Just watched his house when he was in - didn’t have any visitors.” 

“You wash up on a deserted island alone. Sitting on the sand is a box. What is in that box?” 

“My bow and arrows,” Clint said without hesitation. Phil smiled, he could have predicted that answer. 

“S.H.I.E.L.D. no longer exists. The agency has been labelled a terrorist organisation. So, why are you here?” 

Clint froze, his heart rate went up. Not good. Very not good. Barton’s eyes moved around the room, finally landing on Phil. He took a few deep breaths and answered. 

“Because I’m a mess and I don’t know where else to go. I’m not sure I could survive on my own anymore so I’m here.” 

Phil understood it for the admission it was. The show of such weakness. Barton had been so independent. He’d always given the impression that he worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. just because it suited him. It must hurt to admit that wasn’t true. 

“Follow up question,” Koenig said, voice low. “Do you work for Hydra?” 

“No,” Barton said. The answer was immediate and none of the measures registered a lie. 

“Have you ever knowingly gone on a mission arranged by Hydra.” 

“No,” same result. 

“Are you currently in contact with any person who is known to you to be Hydra.” 

“No.” Clean again. Phil let out a breath. He knew these things could be fooled but Barton had been direct, confident. Koenig nodded and the tension in Phil’s stomach unwound a little. He was vindicated in trusting Barton. For now, at least. 

“Congratulations, Agent,” Koenig said, stepping forward to behind detaching Barton from the machine. “Let me get your lanyard.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back from the con. Been post-con dead so slightly shorter again this week. Phil deals with his feelings about the cellist.

There was something soothing and familiar about sitting in the co-pilot seat of a plane Clint was flying. Clint hadn’t seemed greatly confident before they took of but once he’d settled into the routine of pre-flight checks he’d settled, calmed. Phil had known he had this in him somewhere, it was nice to see his faith was well-placed. 

He’d watched the taped of the battle of New York and he’d seen the work Clint had done there. He’d been proud, honestly. Clint had been there on the ground fighting against a god who’d controlled him and an alien invasion beside super-soldiers and monsters and he was just a man but he’d gone in anyway. That was a super-hero as far as Phil was concerned, and Phil was well versed in the ideology of super heroes. 

It was good to see Clint find his center again. He’d hoped handing back control would work out. Otherwise he’d have had to fly this thing. It wasn’t that he couldn’t. It was more that it’d been a long time since he had actually flown. It also made it clearer to him that Clint could focus on missions which meant that wasn’t why S.H.I.E.L.D. had written him off. Sure, there were still problem there but Clint had always been most at home, most comfortable in his own skin, when on a mission. To take that away from him…

There was also the worrying thing they weren’t talking about. The worrying fact that Clint seemed to, well, maybe improving was too strong a word but he wasn’t having the strong negative reaction to being off his meds that Phil had feared. He’d freaked out at the chair, yes, but Phil could see where that was coming from. He hadn’t descended into madness, though. If anything he seemed to slowly be becoming more centered and that made Phil wonder about what drugs he’d been given and why. 

Made Phil worry about who had been giving the drugs and why. 

Now, though, Clint was easy and relaxed behind the controls. The door was shut on FitzSimmons who were working in the room behind and it felt weirdly intimate - like he and Clint were flying alone above the world. Like old times. 

“You know,” Clint said, his tone soft like he was sharing a secret. “I know where we’re going and why. Does she know you’re back?” 

“No,” Phil said, daring a glance at Clint. He was still focused on flying. “We haven’t...I was out for a few months and then S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted to keep me a secret. I understood, at the time. I know they’re gone now but she’d moving on, healing. I hope she is anyway. It’s not fair to dump myself back in her life.” 

“If she loves you,” Clint said, “She’ll want to know your alive. No matter that you lied to her. No matter the cost.” 

“I get that,” Phil agreed. “I’m just not ready.” 

Clint nodded and then fell silent again and Phil appreciated that, he really did. He didn’t want to talk about it right now. Didn’t want to focus too much on Audrey and the feelings he had around her. He’d been trying not to examine it too closely for months. He didn’t normally go for self-denial but in this case he felt it was justified. 

Still, he had to save her. Maybe he would tell her. Clint was right, if he was in her place he’d want to know. But then, if he did, he’d bring her into all this. They wouldn’t be able to see each other. Things were never going to be the same again. 

It was hard to know what was for the best. 

“So,” Clint said eventually, still softly. “You want to tell me some stories about what you’ve been up to since I last saw you? I’m not sure I’ve got any to give in return but…” 

Phil smiled. A distraction, that was exactly what he needed. He’d think about Audrey, about what he was doing and why, once he’d dealt with the threat. It didn’t do anyone any good to dwell on it now. Instead he settled back into the chair and started telling Clint about his team. Spinning out a few stories for him. He knew Clint appreciated a good story. 

***

Phil had a sinking suspicion that this was going to define the new pattern of his life. He started a thing, the thing went to hell, he had to deal with it somehow. In his past life, the one he’d had until Hydra, he’d have sent for backup right about now. There was no backup any more. 

At least he still had his team. At least he still had Jemma and Fitz working on a solution. At least he still had Clint to sit and talk with Audrey. To sit there and calm her down with a bug on him, letting everything they were saying feed back to Phil. He kind of wished they didn’t have that technology any more. 

Phil didn’t make a habit of socializing from people with work if he could help it but Clint had no such rule and if Clint saw him outside of work Clint would happily walk up to say hello. Clint had, of course, met Audrey because of this. During the brief period when she’d lived in New York before she’d moved back to Portland. They’d met out walking in the park, Clint had insisted they all get coffee. Clint had seemed to find Phil having a long term girlfriend he lived with hilarious. 

Maybe it was hilarious. It hadn’t worked out, after all. He cared about Audrey, loved her. They’d not managed the cohabiting thing though. She’d said moving back to Portland was about work and he’d wanted to believe her but he knew there was more to it than that. 

When a relationship was long distance it was easy to not see the problems with it. It was easy for her to accept that she didn’t get much of Phil’s time when she lived so far away that it wasn’t as though she could expect to see him often anyway. The fact that she shared a rent with him and still didn’t see him every day seemed to be a problem for her. He got that, he did. Maybe he should have made the time for her. Maybe he should have done a lot of things. 

He did love her. He listened to her tell Clint she still loved him. Clint, to his credit, played the part of the grieving friend perfectly. He talked to her about moving on, about accepting what had happened. She’d laughed. Said she’d thought she was until all this. 

Phil knew he’d been wrong to come here. He couldn’t help it though. He loved her. He didn’t want to see her die. 

He did love her. 

Maybe the problem was that he loved her like he loved a best friend. Someone to be cherished, someone important, even someone you wanted to see every day though you couldn’t make that happen but not with the passion she loved him. 

When she’d told him she was moving to be with him he’d been shocked. Their relationship up to that point had been marked by comfort. Long holidays together when they could talk them. Weekends in Portland when he was close enough to stop by. The kind of conversation and sex that was comfortable like an old jumper. Comforting and familiar and warm. 

What their relationship had never been was passionate. Phil hadn’t imagined it changing. It was too worn in. He’d imagined they’d carry on much as they had until he retired or she retired and then maybe things would change. Her moving to be with him had been a shock. 

Maybe that was why it hadn’t worked? The living together, obviously. Not the relationship. Their relationship had been fine. They’d been planning a trip. 

He hadn’t cried about her. He listened to her sob on Clint’s shoulder and realized with a start that he hadn’t cried about her once. Not in the quiet moments, not in private. He’d missed her in a kind of abstract way, like he missed his vintage trading cards. Like he missed the comfort of a place off-base that was his own. He hadn’t missed her like she’d evidently missed him. He’d never cried in the night for the want of her. 

He was lying to himself. He realized it then, as much as he wanted to keep denying it. He was lying to himself and it wouldn't help any of them. 

He cared about her. Maybe he loved her. Not like she loved him, though. Never like she loved him. He’d never be what she wanted - a stable place to come back to. Someone who loved her passionately, who wanted her there all the time. 

He was never going to tell her he was alive. He hadn’t been, not really. He’d thought about it. Thought about a time when everything was calm and settled and being able to tell her he loved her and have her smile back at him and forgive him and a house somewhere but it was a fairytale. She deserved better. 

He slipped the earpiece out of his ear. He didn’t need to hear any more, not now. He needed to check in with FitzSimmons and take care of the danger. He needed time to think. 

***

Clint slapped him across the face. Phil couldn’t blame him but he still gave Clint a hurt look and brought his hand up to cradle his burning cheek. 

“That was for Audrey,” Clint said. “I’d have punched you properly but I’d only mess everything up if I broke your jaw. If you have any intention at all of telling that woman you’re alive you’d better tell her now. This just isn’t fucking fair. She’d crying for you every night. You made me lie for you and, alright, I’ve done that before but I’ve never sympathized with a grieving woman about her dead lover when I know damn well he’s listening to every word we say before.” 

“I know, I’m sorry,” Phil said, raising his hands in surrender, “I shouldn’t have put you in that position. I didn’t realize she still felt that strongly.” 

“You’re going to tell her,” Clint said, what should have been a question made a statement by the menace in his voice. 

“No,” Phil answered anyway. “I can’t, Clint. I was listening when you talked to her. I thought about it. Thought about why I’ve done the things I’ve done and I realized the problem is I hadn’t missed her like that. I haven’t found myself lying away at night thinking where she is and what she’s doing. I care about her a lot, I really do, but I don’t love her. Not in the way she wants me to.” 

“So it’s alright to let her think you’re dead because you don’t love her?” 

“No,” Phil agreed. “It’s not. But what will telling her I’m alive accomplish. I can’t be with her. I’m pretty certain I don’t want to be with her. So I tell her that I’m alive after all but I don’t love her and I think we should see other people. That’s fair?” 

“No,” Clint said, frowning. “Shit, Coulson. You could have picked a better time to realize you’re not in love.” 

“Probably,” Phil agreed. “I...I want to tell her, if that’s any consolation. I want to be a friend to her still but that’s never going to be what she wants from me. It’d better to stay away from her, to let her re-build. She can go on thinking of Phil Coulson as a man who loved her and died instead of having to know I never loved her like that.” 

“Guess you’re right,” Clint said, deflating with a sigh. “I...Guess I’m just kind of tired of seeing people hurt.” 

“Yeah,” Phil agreed. “If I knew how to fix this for her I would.” 

“I think you really would, wouldn't you?” Clint said with a sigh. “Wish I knew how to fix it too.” 

***

Clint was quiet in the flight back. Phil didn’t mind, it gave him space to think. Space to reevaluate. He couldn't regret the time he’d spent with Audrey but, at the same time, he couldn’t help but look back on it and wonder why he’d never realized then. 

Couldn't help but wonder how many other things he’d let pass in his life because they were easy and comfortable. He’d never thought of himself as that kind of guy but he guessed he was wrong. All he could do was try not to be the kind of guy in the future. 

He wanted Clint flying again. Watched his easy grace at the controls of the plane. Let himself admire for a second. Why not? He was single now. Why not look? 

There were a million reasons not to look, in this particular case. Not the least of which was whatever had been done to Clint in medical. He’d presumed Hydra within S.H.I.E.L.D. were going to be the responsible agents but could he even be sure of that? Was there any part of this organization he could trust? 

Still, it didn’t hurt to look. It watch Clint’s hands at the controls. There was no harm in looking.


	7. Chapter 7

Coming back to the base to find the bus gone was, really, only the first in a series of unpleasant, shocks. The bunker being empty was the second. Sure, something could have happened and some of them might have had to take the bus out. He’d left a team here for just that reason but why all of them? The third unpleasant shock was finding all the surveillance footage wiped. Well, almost all of it. 

He sat with his team and watched Melinda walk off the plane with her things. It hurt, though he hoped that didn’t show on his face. He knew he’d told her to leave but he hadn’t believed at the time that she’d actually do it. Still, he’d been the one to tell her to go so he couldn’t complain. 

Then he watched Skye walk into the bus hand in hand with Ward. He wasn’t sure what to make of that. No evidence of Koening. Nothing. 

“Alright,” he said, looking around at the team when Fitz had shown them the footage. “I want to know what this means?” 

“There could be many explanations,” Jemma started, taking in that slightly off way she had when she was nervous. He held up his hand for her to stop and, to her credit, she did. 

“Koenig must have got on the bus another way,” Fitz said, eyes darting around the room. “I mean, there’s a motion sensor that catches anything coming or going through the hangar so he couldn't have gotten that way but he’s not here so…” 

“They must have got a distress signal,” Barton said with a shrug. He was sprawled out on the couch, still a little way from the rest of the team. “I mean, if someone was in danger…” 

“Honestly, I’m more worried about the internal records being wiped,” Phil said, turning to look at the screen again. “I mean, that must mean there’s something wrong, right? Why would they wipe the data?” 

That was met with an uncomfortable silence. Apparently nobody wanted to take that one on, which he understood as none of the options available were particularly good. Apparently he let the awkward silence stretch a little too long as FitzSimmons started saying something about eating and bustling out of the room. He could eat so he let them go. This kind of planning wasn’t their strong point anyway. He waited until they were out of the room before going to sit by Barton. 

“So,” he said, looking up at the clips playing in a loop on the screen. “Theories?” 

“How far do you trust those two?” Clint asked, gesturing at the screen. “Skye and Ward.” 

“They’re my team. I trust them with my life.” 

“Yeah,” Clint agreed. “But, let’s be honest sir, trusting someone not to kill you’s not that big of a deal. Would you trust them to drive Lola?” 

Phil couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. Clint was right, there were quite a lot of people he’d trust with his life before he trusted them with his car. Though she was still on the bus she he supposed he’d better be trusting them with her right now. 

“Skye, I trust her without question. She came to up from outside S.H.I.E.L.D.. She’s never worked with another team. I literally can’t think of a point where Hydra could have recruited her unless they got her before she came to us but if their aim was to have her infiltrate they couldn’t have gone about it in a worse way.” 

“Worked though, right?” 

“Yes,” Phil admitted. “But that was a fluke. A million other girls like Skye would have been sent away. She’s different.” 

“You care about her,” Clint said with a little shrug. “Don’t worry, sir. I won’t let word get out and ruin your robot image.” 

“Laugh it up,” Phil grumbled, slumping back into his chair. He did care about Skye, of course. He didn’t like to admit how much but in times like this it was undeniable. He didn’t know what was going on - why she’d left this place or why she was holding hands with Ward when she did - but he did know he’d feel better when she was here safe. Not that he didn’t think she could handle herself but he worried about her. Like a father would. 

He really was getting older. 

“What about Ward?” Clint asked, and Phil was about to tell him how he did trust Ward, he really did, when Jemma screamed. They were both on their feet in an instant and heading down the corridor. Jemma was stood in the door to the store room, pointing up. Phil stepped past her and, well, that solved one mystery. 

“Sir.” He turned to see Fitz stood in the door to the office, pale and hesitant. “I think maybe you should come and see this.” 

He risked one last glance at Koenig but it wasn’t like that problem was going anywhere. He followed Fitz through and froze when he saw the screen. Ward is Hydra carved into the surface and suddenly everything made sense. 

Maybe he wasn’t that great a judge of character after all. 

***

It didn’t take them long to work out what Skye’s play was, Ward’s followed easily from there and Phil couldn’t help a surge of pride, even though the worry, that Skye had thought to encrypt the drive and that she was playing Ward like he’d played them. 

Ward...he couldn’t even think about that right now. He was fighting a serious desire to just put a bullet between the man’s eyes. He felt he’d be justified in doing so. 

Once they’d gotten Fitz focused it hadn’t taken long for him to track the plane and then, of course, just as things seemed to work working out for them - it all fell apart. He should be used to it by now, his life had just turned into a long string of things falling apart. 

There was the military and Maria Hill and he didn’t have time for this but he could hardly say no so somehow he found himself sat waiting for a debrief with his team of being grilled by idiots when Skye was in danger. He was never going to forgive himself if he didn’t get to her in time. Nobody seemed to want to listen to that, though. They’d all been separated and he’d been left here and he was going to go mad. 

The door opened and he was on his feet before he really registered who it was. Maria looked at him, raising an eyebrow. Great, she didn’t have the authority to let them go. He’d have preferred just about anyone else to come through the door. He sat down in his seat with a sigh. 

“So,” she said, coming further into the room. As a general rule, Phil had always liked Maria. She was scarily good at her job and he could respect that. However, right now, he wished she was dead. “Want to tell me how you ended up with Clint Barton?” 

“We found him at the infirmary,” Phil said with a shrug. “Were trying to chase down Hydra at the time, like we should be doing right now.” 

“You know he’s dangerous, right?” Maria said, avoiding the other part of the conversation. “I mean, he was in there for a reason. He’s unstable. We think he’s not got Loki in his brain any more but how do you even tell? And you of all people should understand how dangerous Loki can be. He’s a liability.” 

“He might be,” Phil admitted with a shrug. There were a lot of things about Barton he still wasn’t sure about and, yeah, the fact that he’d had Loki in his head wasn’t a great selling point. “On the other hand, he’s loyal and hard working and intelligent. I need him right now, I can’t afford to write him off just because he might be a liability later.” 

“You always had a soft spot for him,” Maria said with a roll of her eyes. Phil couldn’t argue with that. He HAD always had a soft spot for Clint. He’d never given it too much thought, they worked together so why bother. Well, things were different now. Everything was different now. 

And he still didn’t have time to think about it. 

“Do you know what they did to him?” he asked instead. Maria shrugged but didn’t outright deny knowing what they did which probably meant she knew something. She didn’t seem to be in a talking mood, though. He’d ask her again later, right now he had other things to do. 

“I need to get out of here,” he said instead. 

“What’s the point?” Maria asked with a shrug. “It’s all over anyway. You’d be better staying put, talking to them. Giving them a few secrets. I mean, nothing really important…” 

“I can’t believe you’re still protecting your secrets right now,” Phil said, leaning forward. “I need to get out of here. Right now a member of my team is in trouble. We need to get to her.” 

“What kind of trouble?” Maria asked. 

“She’s with Ward. Turns out he’s Hydra. He wants some information from her but I’ve got no idea what he’s going to do to her when he has it.” 

“Ward’s Hydra?” Maria asked, obviously shocked. Phil was kind of glad he still had it in him to shock her. “I did the intake interviews for that guy. I mean, he was an asshole but…” 

“He’d Hydra. Killed the agent stationed here and took Skye. We think she’s playing him but unless we show up to back her up…” 

Maria seemed to actually stop and think about that. Something in her face had tightened when she found out about Ward, almost like she’d taken it personally. He could hardly blame her for not spotting it. He hadn’t spotted it and he’d been closer. If she did take it personally, though, it could help as right now he needed to get out of here. 

The door started to open. Looked like they had company. 

“We’re running out of time, Maria.” 

Phil has always admired Maria as a fighter. The soldiers didn’t know what hit them. 

***

Phil wasn’t quite sure how he drove Lola to meet the others. It wasn't that she was riddled with bullet holes and nobody stopped him that surprised him, it was more that he genuinely didn’t remember most of the drive. It was probably a defense mechanism. If he’d let himself think too hard about how close he’d come to dying, how close he’d come to losing Skye (the grip he had on her hand the only thing keeping her even slightly safe as the plummeted towards the ground) he wouldn’t have been able to drive them to safety at all. 

Normally he was a master of compartmentalization but not, it seemed, right now. Right now everything was too much. He met the others, checked them all into a motel, been abandoned by Maria, shut himself in the room that was designated at his, put his head between his knees and had a panic attack. 

He supposed it was compartmentalization that had stopped him having it before, he’d felt it building for a while but it was only when he was safe and quiet and alone that it hit. 

He’d come so close, so very close, to losing everything. Once he let himself think about it, properly think about it, he suddenly couldn’t draw air into his lungs. His entire body seemed to want to fight him and just because he knew what was happening, just because it had happened before, that didn’t make it any better. In fact, it almost made it worse. How in the hell was he meant to protect his people if he couldn’t even control his own damn body. 

His breath was coming in short sharp blasts and he couldn’t get it under control. He tried but every failure just made the panic worse. His chest was tightening, heart racing and that couldn’t be good given how recently it had been split open by an alien god. He’d had this feeling before, kept telling himself he wasn’t going to die but it was hard to believe that when he could still feel the horrible churning in his gut as Lola fell. 

He was going to be sick. He knew he was. He bent over further, gripping his ankles and trying desperately to breath. He could stop this, he knew he could. He just had to breath. 

Someone knocked on the door. Brilliant. Great. Just what he needed. He thought about trying to tell them he was busy but he didn’t have the breath for it. Instead he just hunched over and willed them away. He hadn’t locked the door, of course. The panic had been too close by then for him to even contemplate trapping himself in a room and the door opened easily for whoever had come to see him. 

It was Clint. Clint, who paused for a few seconds in the doorway to take in the situation, stood back and shouted something about pizza down the hall and then let himself in and shut the door quietly. Didn’t lock it, at least. 

“Hey,” he said, coming to sit in the bed next to Phil. “You want to try some crappy breathing exercises?” 

A laugh somehow escaped Phil, his mind going straight back to the start of this and him and Barton in his office and the anger he’d had back then. The same offer made for a different kind of problem. Clint seemed to take the laugh as a good thing and moved closer, putting his hand on Phil’s back and rubbing in circles. 

“You know,” Clint said. “After New York when I realized what I’d done I used to have these things. Helped if someone talked to me. You can shove me away if you want but if you don’t mind I’m going to sit here and talk.” 

And he did. He sat there with his hand rubbing circles into Phil’s back and he talked about the most inane things. He favorite beer, some improvements he thought he could make to his bow, this one time he and Natasha had to take out a diplomat in Belgrade and ended up chased through the streets by a pack of dogs due to something entirely unrelated. And the most ridiculous thing was it helped. Phil didn’t have to focus on the words, just on the soft cadence of Clint’s voice and the hand on his back and eventually his breathing settled, his heart slowed. He still felt a little like he wanted to crawl out of his skin but by the time Fitz knocked on his door shouting something about pizza being there he was able to stand up. Able to go out and face them again. 

“Thank you,” he managed to say to Clint before they left. Clint just smiled, somehow managed to look a little sad anyway. And lead the way out of the room. 

***

As hard as it was to find any find of positive in their current situation, Phil had to admit that sitting outside by the pool with his team was a nice change. The reasons they were there were terrible, sure, but Fitz and Simmons had been sat by the pool and he’d been able to see them. Skye was sat across the table from him, engrossed in something on her phone and every time he looked at her all he could think of was how proud he was of her. Clint was sat next to him, more relaxed than Phil had seen him since they found him. 

Every so often he’d remember Maria’s warning not to trust Clint and he knew she was right. He knew Clint had been controlled by Loki. Knew there was no real way to know that control had gone. But for now they were both here and both safe and he trusted Clint. 

He wasn’t sure what it said about him that he still trusted Clint but he wasn’t examining it too closely. 

They’d talked a little about their strategy going forward but not too much. For now, it seemed, it was enough that they were there as together as they could be. Nobody mentioned May. Nobody mentioned Ward. 

Fitz and Simmons were the first to go to bed, claiming exhaustion. Phil was pretty sure they just needed time to process. Skye say for a while longer, started a short conversation with Clint about L.A. and the times they’d been there before making her excuses and going. Phil knew he should go too but Clint had shifted closer so their arms were pressed together and, for now, he was alright where he was. 

After everything he’d been through, after everything Clint had been through, he thought they deserved a little time there alone together in the dark leaning on each other. 

In a way he wasn’t really surprised when Clint’s hand crept its way up to rest on his thigh. Clint had always been a tactile kind of person and it wasn’t like Phil had never had thoughts about him before. He was gorgeous. All muscles and shy smiles and enthusiasm. Of course, it wasn’t the right time. He wasn’t thinking clearly, he’d just nearly died. Clint was an unknown. Trusted to an extent but there was still an element of uncertainty about them. The sensible thing to do would be to get up and excuse himself. Clint would accept that. 

Phil had nearly died today. He’d nearly lost someone very important to him. He had lost people who were very important to him. Everything he’d built his life on had fallen away around him. He’d died and he still didn’t know how he’d come back. He deserved to not do the sensible thing for once in his life. 

He turned his head and Clint’s lips were right there, soft and willing. Clint kissed deep and focused, like he’d been saving up all his concentration just to give it to this one kiss. It didn’t take much for Phil to get lost in the kiss. It had been a long time, after all. Not since Audrey. 

When Clint drew back his lips were kiss swollen and his eyes were glazed. Phil had no idea how he was supposed to resist something like that. No reserve against it. All he could do was stand and offer Clint his hand. He didn’t dare talk though he wasn’t sure why. It felt almost as if they’d created a bubble together and they were trapped inside. Words would pop it and they’d have to go back to real life and all the worries that carried with it. Definitely better to stay quiet. 

Clint took his hand, of course, sealing the deal. As Phil lead the other man back to his room he did wonder, for a second, if he was going to regret this in the morning. It didn’t take him long to realise he didn’t care. He wasn’t very good at living for the moment but, after all, this was a good time for trying new things.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And done :)

Phil has never been the kind who was slow to wake which was a shame as he didn’t get that moment of sleepy bliss before he realised what he’d done last night. Apart from the entire ‘having impulsive sex with someone who might not be entirely mentally stable and shouldn’t be trusted’ thing he’d rolled over after and let Clint stay in his bed. Clint was still there now, curled up in a ball under the sheets and Phil forced himself to ignore the traitorous part of himself that wanted to wrap around Clint and stay there. 

Yes, Clint was damn attractive. He’d have to be blind not to see that. Yes, Clint was actually a pretty decent person - warm and funny and sarcastic which Phil always saw as a positive. Yes, the sex had been mind-blowingly amazing. That didn’t mean they were going to do this again. 

He slipped out of bed using every ounce of skill he possessed. Clint snorted, rolled onto his back, but didn’t wake. Phil couldn’t help but feel a little proud of himself for that. Clint might be a little out of practice but he was still one of S.H.I.E.L.D’S best agents, it was good to know he’d beaten him. 

It was early so the outdoor area was still quite dark, lit only be a few artificial lights. It took him a few seconds to spot Melinda sat where he’d been sat yesterday, a laptop on the table in front of her. He knew he shouldn't admit it, he was still mad with her, but it was good to see her and, well, time leant perspective. He had lied, was still lying, about being dead. He shouldn't be so hurt that other people were lying to him. 

“It’s good to have you back,” he said, dropping down into the seat next to her. 

“It’s good to be back,” she said, uncurling a little from the position she was in. He wondered he long she’d been sat out here waiting for him. “I came by your room last night but you seemed occupied…” 

“I was,” Phil said with a shrug. There was no point lying about it. “He offered. It seemed a good way to spent a night.” 

“Maybe,” Melinda said with a shrug. “Or he’s trying to get on your good side so he can hurt you.” 

“You still think he’d Hydra? If he is here to destroy us from the inside he’s not going a very good job of it. I mean, I know that doesn’t mean he isn’t Hydra but it does give an indication…” 

“I just can’t really trust him,” Melinda said. “You forget, Phil. I was on the helicarrier with him and Loki too. I knew Clint was being controlled but he also shot at me. I was lucky to dodge it, Agent Lopez didn’t.” 

“Were you close?” Phil asked. He’d known Melinda was on the helicarrier when the attack happened, he hadn’t known she’d personally had any contact with Clint while he was under Loki’s control. It maybe explained some of her attitude towards him. 

“Not really,” Melinda said with a shrug. “It didn’t mean I wanted to hold him while he bled out. Barton wasn’t under his own control then, he didn’t mean to hurt us, but do we know that control’s gone? Do we know what it’d take to make him lose it again? I’m very aware of his devastating it could be if he was Hydra.” 

“So am I,” Phil promised her. “I’m not trying to endanger anyone. I’m not blind, Melinda. Right now, we need all the assets we can get and then we’ll worry about it later.” 

“You say you’re not blind but you took him to bed,” Melinda said, as though that made some kind of point. 

“It was casual. I’ve had casual sex before.” 

“Yes,” she agreed. “But not with someone you know so well. This isn’t a one night stand in a bar, Phil. This is different. You need to be ready to deal with that.” 

Phil didn’t have a reply to that so he didn’t try to create one. It was just casual. He’d meant it to be, anyway. Melinda was right about his not having one night stands with people he knew before but he was doing a lot of things he’d never done before. Clint could be his exception. Clint was often an exception and, yes, he was aware that made Melinda’s point about Clint being a little more than a one night stand. 

One step at a time. He wanted his bus back, then he’d worry about his relationship with Clint and what he’d just done to it. 

“The others will be up soon,” Melinda said, reaching out and opening the laptop. “I have something you’ll want to see before then. It’s about T.A.H.I.T.I.” 

***

Phil knew it was a little cowardly but he was glad that everyone else was always awake by the time Clint emerged from the bedroom. If anyone noticed which room he came from none of them commented and Clint didn’t say anything in front of the team which was a good thing. 

From there it all quickly became a planning session. It was easy to lose himself in his mission and push what had happened between them the night before to the back of his mind. It was even surprisingly easy to interact with Clint. He’d expected a certain amount of awkwardness but they didn’t seem to be the case. Clint was just as focused as the rest of them on outlining the plan, analysing the data, until they had something they could work with. 

Simmons suggested calling in Agent Triplett. Normally Phil would resist that kind of thing but, honestly, right now they could use all the help they could get. He okayed the move and she made the call. He said yes which meant they had to stay where they were until he arrived. 

They’d also reached a point where it was now undeniably lunch time so he sent them out to forage and headed back to his room. 

He hadn’t expected Clint to follow him, and would have been more worried about not noticing Clint was following him if Clint hadn’t slipped into his room behind him and pressed him back against the wall, warm lips finding his and Clint really was very good when it came to kissing. Almost an expert. 

This was definitely a bad idea. He forced his arms to move from behind Clint’s back to between them and he pushed lightly. Clint stepped back, trailing hand hands down Phil’s back as he went and Phil forced himself to repress a shudder. He still wanted Clint, that much was clear, but it didn’t mean fucking him was the right thing to do. It wasn’t like he could commit to a relationship now, it was better to clear up misunderstandings. 

“We can’t do this,” Phil said, keeping his hands pressed firmly against Clint’s chest. 

“I think you’ll find we can,” Clint insisted, leaning into Phil’s hands. “In fact, I have some pretty compelling evidence that not only can we do this but we should do this because it’s really hot.” 

“It being really hot isn’t actually a valid argument,” Phil insisted. He was aware he should be getting further away from Clint for this argument to work but he really didn’t want to. “This isn’t a good time to start a relationship.” 

“And when will be a good time?” Clint asked, and there was a hint of anger in there now. “I mean, will it be when we’ve completely wiped out Hydra, because we might not do that in this lifetime. When I’m stable because, I’ve gotta tell you, I have pretty messed up even before a god stuck his fingers in my brain and kneaded. Are you going to be alone forever?” 

“Why do you care?” Phil asked. “The sex wasn’t that good.” 

“Alright, the first point I have to make is that it totally was. I blew your world. You blew my world. There was mutual blowing of worlds. Second, you think this is just about sex for me? With you? Because it isn’t. You’re kind of awesome and you’ve taken me with even though I was kind of useless for a while there and even though we know someone’s been inside my head and you’ve trusted me. Not many people have trusted me ever, especially not at a time like this.” 

“You shouldn’t start a relationship with me just because I trust you,” Phil said, ignoring the sex issue because, yeah, it had been pretty terrible. 

“It’s not JUST that,” Clint insisted. “I know you’re a good guy. It’s not like I just met you yesterday, Phil. I’ve thought about it before but it never seemed to be the right time. You had your Cellist. I didn’t want to fuck that up. But right now we’re standing at the end of the world together and there isn’t going to be a better time.” 

“I need to think,” Phil insisted, though he could see Clint’s point. He maybe had thought about Clint before in an unattainable, bad idea kind of a way. And Clint had proved himself now to be both trustable and human. Oh so human and vulnerable. He was a complete sucker for people who were lost, he knew that. Clint was right, too. The plan they were discussing...it involved danger. They all would. They were a small team now without backup, danger was unavoidable. Maybe it was time to grab hold of something now before it disappeared forever. 

“If you need to,” Clint said, stepping back and letting his hands drop away from Phil. “Come find me when you’ve thought. Either way, I need to know.” 

***

Phil spent a worrying amount of the afternoon and early evening working through his own mortality. He’d have thought he’d have come to terms with it since he’d been dead and all but now, really, he was thinking about living. Thinking about what it meant to be living. What he needed to be happy. 

Word had always been enough for him before. He did an important job, he was very good at it. Anything else was nice but not necessary. Now the world was shifting around him and maybe Clint was right. Maybe he should grab on to something new. 

Before he could do more than think, though, Agent Triplett arrived and concerns about his relationship status were quickly shuffled into the back burner. 

***

Director Coulson. He was still having a hard time processing that in any meaningful way. He was the highest ranking member of S.H.I.E.L.D. left and that made him director. It wasn’t that he’d never thought about the possibility of running the organisation, it’d just always seemed like a terrible idea. Now, though, when S.H.I.E.L.D. consisted of five of them and Koenig in a new bunker, he could manage that. They’d have to bring other people in, of course, but he had a focus, a mission. He could rebuild this and make sure it was done properly this time. 

Still, they had a base and they had a plan and for now they could relax. That meant it was probably time to address outstanding personal issues. Clint seemed to agree because when Phil dismissed them all to get some rest he hung back. 

“You wanna talk now?” Clint asked, towing at the ground. 

“Yes,” Phil said, gesturing him closer. “I think...I’ve been thinking about what you said and I think you have a point. There isn’t going to be a perfect time, waiting for the right moment is no reason to put of living.” 

“That mean you’re going to fuck me?” Clint asked, stepping in a little closer. 

“Well, I was hoping we could fuck each other,” Phil said with a raised eyebrow. Reaching out and taking Clint’s hand. Clint grinned and tugged Phil back out of the room and towards the bedrooms. Phil was only too happy to follow. 

Somehow the sex seemed more difficult now that they’d both agreed it meant something. Before, it had been easy. It didn’t matter if it wasn’t good as it was only a one time thing and it would be good enough. Now...now it mattered. 

Clint still kissed like he’d gained a degree in it. As soon as the bedroom door shut behind them Clint’s lips were on his, tough and demanding and just what Phil needed and he gave himself completely up to the kiss, leaning back against the door and letting Clint do whatever the hell he wanted. He’d had a tough few days, it wouldn’t hurt to let Clint make the decisions here for a while. 

Unless it would and Clint didn’t like that kind of thing. He forced himself to try to fight for control of the kiss thought he knew it was half-hearted at best. Clint seemed to realise it too because he drew back quickly. 

“Hey,” Clint said, bringing a hand up to run over Phil’s hair. “None of that. Not today. Just for tonight let me take care of you.” 

“I need to take care of you back,” Phil insisted, but Clint just laughed, pressing a quick kiss to Phil’s cheek that was almost gentle. 

“You already did that like a million times over, Phil. You really don’t need to worry about it. Let me make this good for you, alright?” 

“Alright,” Phil said, because how could he argue with that. Clint beamed at him and then set to work on the serious business of getting their clothes off. He’d been almost artistic last time, stripping or Phil. This time he went for efficiency. He peeled Phil out of his clothes first, pressing butterfly kisses to the exposed skin and folding the clothes as he liberated them. It was a touching gesture even if the shirt was probably ruined from their little adventure. 

Once Phil was naked Clint stripped himself and Phil watched as Clint revealed his body in swift, economical motions. It was almost like a striptease for the efficient. Phil didn’t really care how the clothes came off as long as he got to study this body in front of him. As soon as Clint was done Phil reached out, pulling him back in close and running his hands over him. 

Whatever Clint had gone through hadn’t left him weakened, he was still strong and lean and dangerous even naked. His body bore any number of scars and Phil knew the history of more of them than he’d like. He took the time to run his fingers over them now, mapping out Clint’s history with the pads of his finger tips. Clint let him for a while and then manouvered them so they were facing each other and draw Phil in for another long kiss. 

The Clint’s fully clothed kisses had been sensual then kissing when naked was something else entirely. The skin on skin contact seemed to make everything so much more intense and it was all Phil could do to place his hands on Clint’s back and hold on. Clint didn’t saw so still, rubbing his hands up and down Phil’s back as he did things to Phil’s mouth that Phil hadn’t even thought were possible. He stopped occasionally to palm Phil’s ass and that was even better. He’d always been sensitive there. 

When Clint pulled back Phil was glad to glad to see he wasn’t the only one affected by this. Not that he didn’t have the physical proof of Clint’s arousal pressing against him but it was something else entirely to see in Clint’s eyes just how turned on he was. 

“God, I want you,” Clint growled, pressing against Phil and kissing him again before Phil could reply which was good since Phil wasn’t sure what was likely to come out of his mouth at this point. Not when he felt like this. 

Clint began to maneuver them back toward the bed and Phil went happily. When the back of his legs hit the bed he was more than happy to fold down to lie on it, thought he rethought that when Clint didn’t immediately follow him, choosing to stand over him instead and look down. 

“Are you waiting for a formal mission brief?” Phil asked, reaching up for Clint’s hand. Clint met him halfway, twisting their fingers together and leaning down to press a kiss to Phil’s knuckles before kneeling down between Phil’s spread legs. 

“Really want to suck you,” Clint said, kissing the inside of Phil’s thigh. “You going to let me?” 

“I might not last long,” Phil warned, but Clint didn’t seem to mind that as he leant over and took Phil into his mouth. Phil didn't know who’d taught Clint to deep-throat a cock like that but he wanted to find them and give them a medal. Possibly several. Or maybe he should just give the medals to Clint since he was the one doing the cock sucking. 

“Fuck,” Phil swore, curling his fingers into the sheets. Clint pulled of his cock with a obscene pop and grinned at PHil before taking it in his mouth again. He didn’t take the entire thing this time, just the head. HE did start sucking properly thought and if Phil didn’t already know what dying felt like he’d have thought he was in heaven. Clint worked up and down, sucking and running his tongue over the head of Phil’s cock. It was amazing and then Clint brought his free hand up to crable Phil’s balls. Phil swore again and then moaned deeply as Clint dedicated himself to getting all of Phil’s cock into his mouth. Phil was right, he didn’t last long at all and he barely had time to warn Clint before he was coming down the other man’s throat. 

Clint didn’t seem to mind at all, swallowing the lot before pulling slowly back off Phil’s oversensitive cock. 

“Damn but look as you,” Clint said, finally climbing onto the bed and straddling Phil’s hips. He was still hard and flushed and it was hardly a chore for Phil to reach his hand up and touch Clint, drawing a finger from the tip down to the base before taking his balls gently in hand. Clint gasped above him, making abortive little thrusts. Clearly he wasn’t going to last very long either. Phil lifted his other hand to the task so he could keep hold of Clint’s balls as he jerked him off. It took less than a minute before Clint was coming too, right across Phil’s chest. Phil didn’t have it in him to care, he just lay there smiling in the afterglow of his orgasm and let Clint do what he needed to do. 

Clint collapsed on top of him and for a while they just lay there. Phil ran his hand up and down Clint’s back, tracing his spine. It was good. He didn’t know if it’d still be good in a few weeks, a few days, but for now this was good. 

“You regretting things again?” Clint asked, shifting against him. 

“No, not now,” Phil said. “Though maybe we should clean up.” 

“Not going to argue with you on that,” Clint said with a laugh, then stood to lead Phil back to the bathroom. Phil still wasn’t sure he’d made the right choice but he was going to stand by it. If he was building new things anyway he might as well go the distance and, from all he knew, Clint was worth the effort.


End file.
